GI Joe: Paradise Lost
by Anne Whynn
Summary: In the process of being rewritten.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer**_

G.I. Joe_ and all of its characters are the intellectual property of Hasbro and are used in a non-profit manner for the purpose of entertainment. _G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra_ and all of its character portrayals are the intellectual property of Paramount and are used in a non-profit manner for the purpose of entertainment. I own no rights to their creations._

_This is a work of fiction. All unique characters, organizations and factions are either from the imagination of the author or, if real, are represented in a fictitious manner without the intent to represent actual conduct. Any similarities to any existing persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental and not the intention of the author._

**G.I. Joe: **_**Paradise Lost**_

_A G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra fanfiction_

Rated M for violence, frequent coarse language and adult scenes. Each chapter will have a warning header to indicate what is to follow. Please read at your discretion.

~}*{~

**Prologue**

~}*{~

_O man's first disobedience, and the fruit  
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste  
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,  
With loss of Eden._

~ John Milton 1608 – 1674  
_Paradise Lost_ (Book 1, 1.1)

~}*{~

**Some time, not too long ago, somewhere in South America**

It was impossible to know when the stones had last seen any form of light. Certainly natural light had not caressed their damp surfaces for near to two thousand years, if not more. Instead, it had been lost to darkness and obscurity, the magnificence of the structure forgotten from the memories of man and the pages of history.

Until now.

Hiking boots carefully picked their way along the uneven, unstable rocks that had been thrown loose from the excavation, spilling the artificial illumination from the massive lamps beyond into the cavernous room behind. Every scrape of stone, every whisper of cloth, every sharp breath echoed impossibly around them, giving an indication of the sheer scale of the cavern that was lost to darkness, impenetrable to even their powerful lights.

Torches swept back and forth like spears of white, intangible and untouchable but looking like weightless pillars of blessed discovery. The cavern should have been utterly still, but their entrance had kicked up dust that had remained undisturbed for centuries, filling the air with swirling motes that glowed like fae lights with the passing of the torches.

"I can't believe it… we found it. We actually found it…"

The words were distorted by the echoes, even though they had been merely a hushed whisper. Hiking boots moved with utmost reverence from tumbled, rough stone to the hewn smoothness of an artificial structure, laid with cut stone, fitting perfectly against one another. Torchlight swept from the toes of those boots, up and up, to reveal the steps of what had to be a massive structure, before the torch light could go no further and everything was darkness once more, the discovery reluctant to show itself from the shadows in which it had been clad for all this time.

"We found it!" The exultant cry came back at him a dozen times, his voice echoing in his ears, mocking him with his own exuberance. "It really exists!" Not that he cared.

"Congratulations," came a female voice from behind him. "This is truly a marvel."

"A marvel? A _marvel_? This is the fruit of my life's work, realized! We're re-writing history just by standing here!"

The woman turned her torch to the area around her, allowing the man to banter on, uncaring for his words or his excitement. He moved forward like an eager child, stopping to examine glyphs carved into stone and effigies of warriors rising from the rock. She followed at a more leisurely pace, her torch dancing over the temple's vastness and disappearing into the darkness high above. It as a vast cavern, the rock threaded with just the right combination of mineral deposits to render the cavity invisible to technological detection, regardless of the method. It was the reason that the discovery of the temple that lay within it had taken so long. But discovered it had been.

Of course it had not been without dramas. Not just the loss of his wife, but the withdrawal of funds time and time again, leaving him without resources and means to locate the temple, a temple they said did not exist. But it was more than doubt, he knew. More than jealousy. They feared the temple. Feared what it represented to their established understanding of the history of man. Until _she_ had approached him. With her faith and her beauty and her smile. She gave him money and men and allowed him free reign to find the temple. She had believed in him, and her reward for her faith was before her. Finally, he stood at the base of the steps, almost hyperventilating with his excitement.

"I am about to take the first step… the first person that has ever set foot upon them since before the birth of Christ himself." He swallowed, shaking violently at the prospect of the discovery before him. Shaking at the idea that he, of all people, would be able to make such a monumental discovery. "We are going to rewrite history!"

"I'm more interested in the future, myself."

The gunshot echoed out through the cavern, transforming the reverent whispers into a noise so violently loud that the temple itself seemed to sit silent in shock afterward. The sound of a bullet striking stone and blood splattering the ground was the precursor to the distinct sound of flesh-wrapped bone collapsing on rock, cloth whispering against the surface.

Serafina Montag lifted her gun as her torch swept over the man's fallen form, taking in the ruined mess of his face, one eye hanging out of its socket, the other gone completely. His upper lip and nose were gone, but his lower lip and his jaw still held the look of reverent joy that had frozen in its last moment of existence. Even in death, he was exultant, unable to realize the depths of the betrayal that had taken his life.

Good for him.

Her patience, investment and indulgence of the old man had rewarded her well. Her gaze swept over the temple once more and she gave a very satisfied nod. Well done, you worthless old bastard. Well done. Now it was time to step aside and allow the true purpose to come to fruition. She dropped the gun and turned to look over her shoulder, seeing the silhouette of the rest of the group against the backdrop of brilliant white illumination, burning through the hole blasted in the stone.

"Get to work." Serafina spared the corpse a glance as she stepped over it. "And get rid of him."

~}*{~

_**Author's note (Die hard G.I. Joe fans please read)**__: _

_This will be the first fanfiction where I can honestly say I am not comfortable with my basis of knowledge. It is the reason that I am going with the G.I. Joe film as opposed to the cartoon/comic continuity, because I don't have the resources/time to research everything as I do with my other fictions (and I am aware that the canon continuity is massive). I have, however, done some research for the G.I. Joes franchise, mostly because I _need_ to do that sort of thing. This fiction will be drawing on an amalgam of knowledge from the film (which did not have enough info as far as I am concerned), and the comics/cartoons where applicable. As such, some things might be a nudge nudge to those who know what I am talking about, or something interesting and new for those who have only seen the film. I hope this works. _

_I am aware that Snake Eyes/OFC fictions are about as common as ham and cheese sandwiches, but I am hoping, at least, to make a good go of it and have a plausible relationship build. As such, please be aware that the fiction is centred at being a romance, pure and simple. It is a G.I. Joe fanfiction, so there will be action and plenty of it, but the focus will be around Snake Eyes and the original female character. There will be a few squicky scenes, but I will warn for those._

_When it comes to reviewing, I welcome all comments. Flames will be taken with a pinch of salt. After all, if you hate it enough to make a comment on it, there has to be a reason. If you hate it, please at least do me the honour of telling me why, so maybe I can improve it. Creative criticism is more than welcome. Dissect me. Tear me apart. Anywhere. Everywhere. Especially G.I. Joe fans and people who well know Snake Eyes' personality and traits. I will try and portray him as best as I am able, but I foresee it as being an incredibly difficult task, so I welcome all the help I can get. In fact, if at any point the characters appear too OOC (or, rather, OOC at all), please let me know and I shall do my best to rectify it._

_Now that the boring part is over, please enjoy the rest of G.I. Joe: _Paradise Lost_._

_Thank you_

_Anne_


	2. Ch 1: Merely Players in a Play

**Warning**: Frequent coarse language.

**Author's Note**: Re-written and proofread.

**Chapter One**:

_Merely Players in a Play_

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'… say first what cause  
Moved our grand parents in that happy state,  
Favoured of Heav'n so highly, to fall off  
From their Creator, and transgress his will…'

_Paradise Lost, Book I, 28 - 31_  
**~}*{~**

**The not too distant future**

**New York City**

New fucking York.

Eight million people and change, crammed into three hundred and three point something square miles of land, which gives twenty six and a half thousand people per square mile.

And every single one of them was taking the same goddamn street to the same goddamn location.

There had to be a light somewhere up there, but he couldn't see it, and if there was, it was letting the cars through one at a time. The coffee shop with the three chatting women had been in front of him an hour ago. Now he could look and see it over the bonnet of the car beside him. The three women were gone, of course, and some waitress in tight black pants was scrubbing the table with a youthful enthusiasm that was doing wonders for her breasts.

As let his arm sag out the window of his car, exhaling cigarette smoke and tapping ash onto the street below, a part of him wondered at the sheer stupidity of the couple of hundred people that likely had to be sitting in the traffic with him. After all, their combined lack of IQ contributed to this nightmare of a snarl. They voiced their combined displeasure by periodically resting and pounding on their horns as if the cacophony of sound might be able to usher the mass of aluminium bovines into movement. Without success, of course.

He did deliberately forget that his musings on their collective mass of less than intelligent decision making included him, as well. He was, after all, not the same as they. They in their piece of shit cars, rust buckets billowing thick black exhaust in their final stretches, and the taxi cabs screaming foreign music, did not come anywhere near his sleek silver-white car, bought with his six figure salary, which had also purchased him a condo. Of course, the luxury place of residence was on the other side of the city to where he worked, but traffic jams were the lot of life for the rich and influential.

He brought the cigarette to his mouth again, but stopped when something caught his attention. Scowling, he leant forward over the wheel of his expensive car, squinting against the afternoon light glaring off the buildings.

There was a man running over the cars.

No... wait.

There were _two_ of them.

His eyes flew wide as he threw himself back against his seat, the first of the two men bounding unerringly over those piece of shit vehicles before him to bring one massive boot down on the shining surface of his own car and left a nice, large dent.

"What the fuck?"

A thud on the roof signalled the second step upon his vehicle and he rocked as a dent appeared next to his head. A third and final step and a smash of glass had the man raging in his seat as he saw spider web fractures appear on his rear window. Grabbing the door of his car, he threw it open so he could shout at the retreating figure, but all he did was slam his door straight into the car next to him.

"Son of a bitch!"

The occupant of the other car, however, was too busy staring as the second figure as he flew their cars like he had wings, barely touching one before he was off again, moving with a fluid grace that the other lacked.

But well made up for in speed.

+_Don't lose him, Snake Eyes_!+

A master ninja of nearly unsurpassed skill, practically unrivalled in his hand-to-hand expertise and possessing combat skills that few would ever be able to match, Snake Eyes was struggling to keep up with the fleeing figure. It wasn't just their speed. It was their sheer endurance. Snake Eyes was supremely physically fit, but even he was being hard-pressed to maintain his speed and agility as he raced across the cars, keeping on the heels of the escaping creature.

'Creature', because 'man' was too great a stretch of reality. Even if it looked like a man, even if it stood like a man, there was no way it was a man. No natural being existed that could match this thing. Snake Eyes' own skills reached the brink of human limitation and this man… person… thing, surpassed him.

It was more Snake Eyes' pure stubbornness and determination that had him following him, now. Too many times he had failed to keep up. Too many times they had simply lost him in the chaos of crowds or in the jungle of the city.

Not again.

The fleeing creature glanced over its shoulder and Snake Eyes' visor recorded the leering grin that stretched its face. It looked like a man, with dusky tanned skin and short black hair cropped just long enough to obscure the features. But there was something about the eyes. Hollow and lifeless and devoid of a soul.

His target's steps faltered, stalled, and Snake Eyes leaped, seizing a chance to close the distance. But before his hand could close about the fluttering coat his prey wore, it dropped from his sight, simply disappearing beneath him as he sailed over the top. Catching himself on a car and sliding to a stop, Snake Eyes threw himself in the opposite direction even as he searched for his prey. It had dropped down onto the trunk of a car, shielding itself against the windshield and then using it to abruptly change directions.

Its new course was straight into the crowds gawking at the spectacle before them.

A group of women screamed with shock as the fleeing creature knocked all three of them over, taking a leaping step to smash through a storefront, disrupting displays and sending knickknacks flying about. Snake Eyes was right behind it a moment later, leaping right over the items and people strewn out over the floor.

His prey circled to an escalator and took a running leap off of it, landing in a roll in a food court below. Snake Eyes planted his hand on the railing and swan-dived down towards the tables far below. People screamed and scattered as his feet caught the edge of a table, tipping him forward into an easy roll and bringing him back to his feet.

Then the chase was on again.

Fortune and chance had Alpha Team refuelling their jet at one of the minor United States bases when the call had come through of something attacking a research facility on the outskirts of New York City. Otherwise they would have been far too late even spot the culprit let alone pursue it. As it was, they arrived in their jet in time to see it fleeing through the one method guarantying minimal perusal: the unmoving traffic.

Although the jet would have negated that advantage, the creature seemed smart enough to divert its path into areas of the city that would disallow the jet to pass through. Snake Eyes had abandoned the flier for a closer pursuit.

The tracking beacon on his body was the only way the Joes could locate him – and thereby locate the target – but he was still a human with human limits.

Already they had travelled several miles and Snake Eyes could normally endure many more before needing to stop, but the frenetic pace they had tracked through the city was exhausting him. Though he tried to regulate his breathing and heartbeat to further extend himself, Snake Eyes was reaching the end of his endurance.

His target, however, seemed to show no signs of fatigue. He was still running with the same velocity as it had when Snake Eyes had first encountered it, despite the fact that it should be weighed down by its heavy boots and black coat.

Snake Eyes and the creature ran one after the other, less than a second of space between the two of them, around corners and past horrified shoppers. Snake Eyes did not know where exactly the creature was headed and it was irrelevant to him. He just needed to catch it.

The creature found another set of escalators and shoved people aside as it bolted up the moving stairs. Snake Eyes leaped behind it, boots touching down on the ascending rail, moving along it as carefully as possible without losing speed.

The creature glanced back again to see that it had not lost Snake Eyes. With a shake of its head, like Snake Eyes was a persistent child and not an actual threat, it snatched up a chair from a small café as it passed, hurling it ahead and into the glass window beside the doors of the plaza. As tinkling shards rained down around it, it burst into the open air again, dashing right into flowing traffic.

As it lost precious time skirting oncoming vehicles, Snake Eyes used them like stepping stones. Cars skidded every which way as the drivers realized what was happening, but in less time it took to take a breath, Snake Eyes and his quarry were on the other side of the street.

Pedestrians turned sharply and saw only empty space as the creature raced for a building that was still under construction, apparently building over or renovating the existing structure.

As it ran, it threw out an arm and grabbed a woman that stepped out of a café. It ripped her off her feet with enough force that she didn't even have the breath to scream and Snake Eyes ducked her flying cup of coffee.

+_Shit_!+ Ripcord was obviously watching through video link in Snake Eyes' visor. +_It's got a hostage_!+

+_They've never taken hostages before_+ said Scarlett.

+_I guess Snake Eyes was starting to get to him._+

+_Get us there, Heavy_!+ Duke's voice overrode Breaker's. +_Now_!+

+_If you idiots hadn't broken the damn Accelerator Suits _last_ time, you'd already _be_ there!_+

**~}*{~**

There are choice times to go get coffee. Usually one makes the choice on the best time based on the information given to them. For instance, when the best time was to go to avoid the evening rush of shoppers, not losing too much business when you had to close your store for twenty minutes. This, of course, had to coincide with the time when the line up at your favourite café was short enough that it would actually _take_ you twenty minutes.

Also, the weather.

The weather man, however, forgot to mention high-speed foot chases and kidnapping scenarios.

Corbin was breathless from the impact against her ribs, her nails digging into the arm that hauled her like so much trash behind the man that had so rudely snatched her from the street. She was aware that they had smashed through something wooden. She was aware they were going up. She was aware there was a man all in black with a _sword_ on his back chasing them.

She was also aware that she should have either gotten coffee thirty seconds earlier, or thirty seconds later. That way someone _else_ would be in her situation, instead. But that was just her luck, right?

She tried to push herself up, to take the pressure off her abdomen, but the thing holding her suddenly changed altitudes, jerking her back down and sending her hair into her face. Scraping the black locks out of her mouth, she grunted with surprise when she was jolted upwards, landing against a shoulder and draped down over his back in an awkwardly painful pose as one arm wrapped around her thighs. Absurdity took on a new level as she suddenly felt like the actress from King Kong.

Naomi Watts?

The man scaled the steps with more speed and confidence than she would ever manage, even if she was wearing her combat boots and not heels like she was now. She was also morbidly aware that her ass was very close to her kidnapper's face.

The calm, rational part of her mind seemed to be very much in control at that moment.

That rational part of her mind rationalized that Grammy Kaye would be very displeased she wasn't fighting to defend herself. The rational part also rationalized that Grammy Kaye was dead, and if Corbin was soon to follow, she wouldn't be heading to the same place anyway, so Grammy Kaye wouldn't be able to chastise her.

The word 'dead' galvanized Corbin into action and rationale took a complacent step back, hands raised in surrender.

Her spine bowed violently and she bounced herself up at the same time that she slammed her elbow as hard as she could into the place where her kidnapper's head met his spine. He stumbled and, as the arm around her thighs released her, Corbin was sent tumbling inelegantly onto her head on the stairs. Pain seared her body as she struggled to figure up from down. Her hand came down on the concrete flooring of the next level and she pulled herself the rest of the way onto it. Up was a good way to go.

A hand grabbed her coat, fisting in the synthetic leather. She tilted her shoulders back and slipped her arms free of it, promptly falling on her face. Rolling over, she prepared to kick at her attacker with one of her sharp heels, when he was instead tackled from the side by their pursuer, one of the few people she had ever met that could possibly wear more black than she. Only because he was covered head to toe in it.

Corbin watched with dazed horror as the two of them fell into some sort of martial-artist battle to the death, blurring punches, kicks and strikes of all sorts going every which direction. They were fighting to hurt one another, to deal as much damage as possible. To kill.

Every blow that registered on her attacker filled her with a perverse thrill, while every strike that hit her impromptu rescuer chilled her. Not that many seemed to hit him. There was elegance to the black-clad fighter's movements as he avoided and blocked almost everything that came his way. The opponent, her kidnapper, was not so skilled, but it was obvious that he had raw force behind his actions and weathered dozens of blows that came his way.

Once her initial moment of '_Holy shi_-' awe was dispensed with, Corbin decided that _now_ would be a good time to escape. Acknowledging the lack of speed running in heels gave, she unzipped the impractical but oh so lovely black ankle boots she was wearing and kicked them off, deciding that she could get them back if she survived. As she climbed unsteadily to her feet, she thanked whoever discovered friction that fishnet stockings and flesh against concrete made for a good deal of it. Backing away from the fighting duo, she attempted to circle around them toward the stairs. Let them fight it out.

She wanted to be _gone_.

The black-clad man, who was, she realized, actually covered from head-to-toe in form-hugging rubber or something similar, grabbed the wrist of a hand that intended to punch him in the throat. Two sharp strikes had her kidnapper's head snapping back, going weak at the knees. Corbin hesitated as she realized that her impromptu rescuer might win.

Just as that thought took hold, her kidnapper twisted his arm and grabbed the black-clad wrist. His other hand came out, palm up and fingers like claws, and he drove them into the torso of the sword-toting man. Corbin stared with horror as her kidnapper, who was larger, broader and now obviously quite physically stronger, than her rescuer, bodily lifted him with nothing more than his hand at the smaller man's torso and hurled him over his shoulder.

Snake Eyes landed on one arm, catching himself and rolling to his feet quickly. As he turned, his katana was naked in his hand, the blade gleaming brightly at the edge of his vision.

He froze, however, when he saw that his target had the woman again, one hand around her throat, circling the slender column easily. She was fighting, clawing at his arm, beating at him with her fists, even kicking out with her tiny fee, but his quarry just stared at Snake Eyes, unaffected by her struggles.

The man lifted one foot and stepped back, toward the edge of the building. Snake Eyes followed, folding his other hand around the hilt of his katana. Another retreated step, another advancing step. The woman seemed to realize where she was being taken, before she threw herself into her struggles with greater effort, no doubt hurting herself in her fight to be free.

She still had no effect.

+_Heavy!_+

+_I know, I know_!+

+_We're almost there, Snake. Hold on_!+

As if hearing those words, the target stepped back and flung the woman into open air, her scream trailing behind her lifeline that would never catch her.

Snake Eyes reacted without thinking. Sheathing his katana, he bolted past his rapidly retreating target. Planting one foot on the edge of the concrete flooring, he hurled himself out into open air after the woman. As he did, one of his arms came out, blindly half tossing, half dropping a grenade to a support beam below him to his right. It touched the top of the mass of cables and wires that held the beam in place just as it detonated.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he swung his legs to alter their momentum, and they fell together. Beneath them, the beam extended outwards and beneath them with a cry of twisted, bending metal. Snake Eyes twisted to absorb most of the impact, but both of them slammed into the beam regardless, their downward momentum arrested sharply and silencing her scream as the air was forced from her lungs. With one arm wrapped around her waist, the other thrown out over the beam to hold them in place, they hung over a drop that was more than enough to kill them both.

+_Jesus Christ_!+

+_Snake Eyes, hold on! Hold on!_+

Snake Eyes, momentarily, wondered what else they thought he would do, before his thoughts were consumed with more practical, survival-orientated thoughts. His tactical mind whirled as he processed the potential distance of Alpha Team. Of how he could best get himself and the woman to safety. Or, perhaps, just the woman.

The distended metal, straining cables and crumbling concrete that was on the other end of the beam clearly indicated that time was not on his side. He knew that no training, no matter what kind nor how rigorous, could contend against the immutable force of gravity.

Corbin closed her eyes, breathing sharply past the searing agony that was her ribs and left breast. As pillow and cushiony as breasts might be, landing on them was not a good idea. Especially when the opposite surface was metal.

"Oh God. Oh my God. Oh God…" She gripped the beam tighter, feeling the arm of the rescuer around her back and an empty nothingness below her feet. Her eyes were closed and she was not inclined to change that any time soon. "Not that I don't appreciate the lengths you've gone to to save my life already, but I really, really would like it if you could finish the job…" Her voice was high-pitched, fast and shaking with terror.

Suddenly the beam groaned and sagged, dropping them only a few centimetres lower, but just enough that Corbin felt her whole being shift, like her soul was trying to crawl out of her mouth and leave her body to its demise.

Her rescuer shifted slightly and his arm withdrew from behind her back. Corbin screamed, short and sharp, her eyes flying open so he could see the abject betrayal in her blue eyes.

"_What are you doing_?"

He ignored her as he carefully and slowly inched himself up onto the beam, which surprisingly didn't seem to register too many of his movements. He drew his legs up, one after another, setting them down on the red-painted steel that formed the only thing keeping them from a horrific transformation into a three-dimensional Picasso.

Her eyes slammed shut and she threw everything she had into her next words, directing them to th sky. "…I know we're not on good terms, but please… please… don't let me die. Don't let him die. But don't let me die, mostly."

When she opened her eyes again, he had one hand wrapped around the beam and had, in fact, moved away from her. She thought for a terrifying moment that he would leave her there, but instead he turned and extended his hand, fingers splayed, and stared intently at her. Or at least she thought he did. Visor got in the way.

_Reach for me_.

Corbin stared at the strange, half-face that was visible under the visor covering his eyes. That wasn't really his face, was it? Rationality piped up that no, that was some sort of synthetic substance moulded to look like a face. Hysteria promptly picked up rationality, broke its neck and shoved it out of the back of Corbin's head without a parachute. Rationality's time at the helm was over.

Hysteria happily told her that there was no way she could take his hand. He couldn't reach her, but she could reach him, closing the distance, but that meant she had to let go of the beam, and she was pretty damn sure that her hands and arms were fused to the metal. There was just no way she could possibly-

The groan of the beam changed her mind.

Swallowing hard, she carefully rested her weight on one arm. Working her hand free of its knuckle-aching death grip, she extended her hand to him.

The beam shuddered again and sagged lower. She screamed and wrapped her arms around the beam again, tears on her cheeks, "Oh my God!"

When she managed to open her eyes again, she saw he hadn't moved; his hand still was extended to her and he was still waiting for her to take it. With a small scream, she freed her hand and snapped it out, grabbing his wrist. His own hand clamped painfully tight on her forearm and all she could think about was how she wanted him to hold on to her tighter. To fuse his fingers with her arm and never, ever let go.

They froze when the beam shuddered and bounced, something metal behind him snapping. He looked over his shoulder, his head darting as he examined what was holding them over the thousand foot drop. Exaggeration, true, but hysteria didn't give a flying fuck.

"I'm scared," she whispered. Unnecessarily. But everything was wrapped up in those two words. _Don't let me die. Please don't let me die. I'm trusting you to get me out of here. Don't let me die. For the love of Christ don't let me die_…

He looked back at her, that half-face that should have been intimidating looking like Michael himself coming down from Heaven to pluck her from certain death. Amazing that she never gave God a passing thought, but now that she was brushing close to Death, she found herself wondering if the Big Man did exist, and whether or not he cared about her.

She gained a new appreciation for born-again believers.

"My… My arm is really beginning to hurt," she whispered. "Like, really really." Not to mention her ribs and left breast were complaining loudly of the abuse they had taken and the fact that a significant portion of her slightly-above-average weight was hanging in open air.

His own arm tensed and he tugged on her, indicating that he was going to pull her up. She closed her eyes, whimpering.

"I have nil upper body strength. Look at my arms. They're all fat. No muscle. I can't get up."

He tugged her again, apparently not accepting that as an answer. Well whoop de fucking do, Mister I Am A Ripped Ninja. The last time she had been any sort of fit, her diet had consisted of celery sticks, a daily cube of cheese and enough drugs to kill a horse. Nowadays she did no exercise and found the merit of things slathered in chocolate and wasn't inclined to change it. She was not so vain as to want a totally flat stomach, and people don't go to gyms to prepare for the event of hanging over a fatal fall with only their arms and blind faith to haul them back up.

But it was that, or death, and Corbin would like to forestall her meeting with the Reaper for as long as possible. He would probably be grumpy with her for the amount of times she cheated him, anyway.

Slowly Corbin allowed her weight to rest on his arm, which didn't budge. Transferring her grip in increments, she went to push herself up as he drew back, slowly moving her onto the beam. Her feet hit the metal and she braced herself, feeling air against her thighs and realizing she was probably flashing her panties at everyone below her, but she didn't care.

Especially not when she looked down.

"_Holy Mother of Christ_," she felt her entire being just drop out of her ass when she saw how high up they were.

Plenty of time to scream.

His hand tightened on hers and he shook it urgently. Tearing her gaze away from the ground, she looked back at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. He tilted his head forward and stared at her, before letting go of the beam with his other hand. She swallowed a scream as he pointed two fingers at her, or more specifically at her eyes, and then pointed at his visor.

_Look at me_.

"I'm looking!" she insisted, nodding frantically. "I'm really looking. I am. Look at me looking. Please hold on to the beam again!"

He extended his hand, preparing to grab the beam, but apparently his balance was good enough that he did not feel it necessary. Corbin didn't exactly agree with him, but she didn't have the breath to argue. It was consumed with nearly hyperventilating. He swept his hand in a chopping motion towards the building, and then tightened his hand. They were going to make their way back.

A wave of tears washed down her face, before she whispered, "Wait. Wait." Turning her head, she scrubbed her face on her shoulder. She couldn't see anything with tears in her eyes. "Alright. I can see now." She blinked her burning eyes and looked down. His hand tightened. "I have to see where I'm putting my feet! I'm looking at the beam. Just… Just at the beam." A beam with a lot of gaps in it that would show her exactly how far she would fall before she died.

She wondered if it would hurt…

He moved with such speed that she felt her stomach drop out again, bending her knees and throwing out her hand to grab the beam should she fall, but he was only resituating himself. Then he tugged on her hand. The man had confidence that Corbin did not share. She had good balance, she knew, but she hadn't really used it for years, and no matter how capable _he_ was, if the beam went with both of them on it, there was no way in hell they'd survive the fall.

Carefully, shaking so hard her teeth were rattling, she lifted one foot and put it down on what appeared to be solid. His hand came up, patting the air. _Slowly. Slowly_.

"_I am going slow_!" Oh yeah, she could do slow. She was going to put snails and slugs to shame.

Distributing her weight carefully, she almost swallowed her tongue when nothing happened, hope leaping to life in her chest and making her heart feel like it was five times too big for her rib cage. She dug her nails into his forearm as he guided her up, moving with her, so that their arms were always extended between them. A small part of her mind wondered why that was, but the rest of her was consumed with incoherent hysteria and giddy hope, both of which made her want to laugh madly as she cried.

"Snake Eyes!"

Both of them looked up sharply and her foot slipped. She screamed and landed on her stomach, one leg falling into openness and the other crumpling beneath her, clutching the beam like a terrified koala with one arm stretched up, still holding onto his. Pain radiated through her body anew and her right breast now shared kinship with her left. She knew then why he didn't let her get close to him. Because if she fell, she would grab him, and he didn't want that. At least with only one arm holding her, he could maybe hold her up without being dragged down with her.

Logical.

Terrifying.

She lifted her head carefully to see him staring at a beautiful, red-haired woman standing in a ridiculously tight black suit. How could she move in that? She was clutching one of the support struts at the edge of the in-construction floor, where the beam was leading.

"Are you alright?"

_Is she talking to me_?

Corbin blinked, stunned, her face a mask of incredulous outrage, "Oh yeah. See this face? This is my '_I'm having a fucking blast'_ _face_!"

Her rescuer glanced back, his head tilting slightly, before he returned his gaze to the woman.

"Here!" A slender black line was thrown out, a rope that looked way too thin to hold anything up, about the width of her finger. She was betting that it was stronger than t looked. In fact, Corbin was betting her life on it.

Her rescuer reached up and grabbed it with one hand, before turning to her. He opened the hand that held her arm.

"_Ohgoddon'tletmego_!"

He lifted his hand with the rope, shaking it. He needed both hands to use the rope. Couldn't he use one hand? Weren't men good at using one hand?

New tears obscured her vision as she slowly freed her grip on his arm, promptly wrapping her arms around the beam again and vowing never, ever to let go. With swift, practiced moves he clipped the rope to several belt loops around his waist. Knotting and tugging it tight, he turned and lifted his hand. What looked like a complicated mass of straps was tossed to him next and he slowly moved over to Corbin.

The beam groaned as it sagged.

"DON'T DON'T DON'T DON'T!" she screamed, but she didn't know if it was to him or the beam.

He ignored it as he carefully put what looked like a harness around her, clipping it into place and jerking the straps tight, efficient despite her reluctance to remove herself from the beam. Then he threaded the rope through more loops and tied it tight, checking it with quick tugs.

Then he offered his hand again.

She stared at him, sobbing, before reaching out to take his hand once more. This time he was less careful about being far away from her, guiding her along the beam. As she looked up, she realized that there was a small group of people through the window and they were working to keep the other end of the rope taut. Three of them were men that looked to be of at least a significant amount of physical strength. Oh good. So if they fell-

The world disappeared from under her feet.

The beam broke with a roar of metal, tearing free of the building and plummeting towards the ground far below. Corbin screamed and screamed and screamed as she fell with it, the black-clad man following behind her, all of his skill rendered useless in an instant.

The hand around her arm didn't let go. Instead, it pulled her up. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and she wrapped herself around her rescuer just as the rope jerked taut on his body, yanking them towards the building and leaving Corbin's stomach behind. She opened one eye to see the concrete edging of the floor below approaching them in a way it should not have.

They were going to hit it, either with their shoulders or their heads. The masked face above her head was also directed towards it and the arm around her back tightened as the other raised over his shoulder.

Then she saw a small, black blade in his hand. Corbin felt her whole world slow to a horrified crawl as he brought the knife up to the rope.

"N-!"

He sliced through the rope and the height they dropped was just enough for them to pass beneath the concrete floor. Their momentum kept them going and he released the knife, wrapping one arm around her head and keeping the other around her shoulders as they went rolling over the concrete together. They finally came to a stop with her sprawled on his chest, which was heaving under her with his muffled breathing.

Corbin, herself, was wheezing so painfully that she felt she might suddenly expel a lung. Her arms came up, hands shaking violently, to brace against his shoulders, bowing her torso away from him. The implacable mask before her tilted down slightly and she stared at her reflection in the lined visor.

Her mouth opened, and then snapped shut as she feared she would throw up all over him. Slowly rolling onto her side, she put her hands over her face and concentrated on breathing and the solid, solid concrete beneath her back.

Holy fucking shit, she was alive.

She was two for two in surviving drops that could have killed her. Granted, falling out of a tree was nothing like falling out of a _building_.

The man extricated his arm from under her head carefully and she felt the harness around her body being removed. She obligingly moved her otherwise unresponsive arms for him, and he just let her lie on the opened straps, kneeling beside her.

"I'm okay," she whispered, more to herself than him, more incredulous than reassuring. "I'm okay. Oh dear God, I'm okay..."

Snake Eyes remained beside the violently shaking woman, ensuring that she did not do anything drastic. She would be bruised and battered the next day, but it was nothing that a few weeks of rest would not cure.

She was alive, and that was his main concern.

His chin lifted when he heard the sound of his team hurrying down the stairs, but movement at his peripheral vision made him turn towards the woman.

"I need to sit up. I'm going to hurl."

Snake Eyes grasped her elbows and helped her up, positioning her with her head down and between her legs, placing a reassuring hand on her back. She didn't vomit, however, she just sat there with her black hair obscuring her face, breathing deeply and evenly.

Every now and again, he saw a droplet of moisture appear on the exposed concrete between her knees. She was crying.

With relief? With terror? Snake Eyes tilted his head.

"You _cut_ the rope?" cried Breaker, appearing beside him. "You _cut_ it?"

"Man, I thought you were dead for sure," said Ripcord, tapping his shoulder.

Scarlett was carrying the woman's boots and faux leather coat, "How is she?"

Snake Eyes lifted his hands, signing, _She's in shock_.

"'M jus' fine," she slurred. "S' all good..."

Scarlett knelt beside her and draped her coat around her shoulders, arranging the fur lining to be under her hair. "You're alright. You're safe now."

The girl took her boots and hugged them to her chest, seeming to remember propriety as she tugged her short skirt down over her thighs as best she could, focusing on the act rather than the tears flowing down her face.

Snake Eyes got to his feet, his hands moving sharply as he told them he had to abandon the chase to save her.

"I know," said Duke. "Don't worry. Anyone would have made the same decision."

"You did the right thing." Heavy Duty nodded to Snake, though it did not make him feel better about losing the target.

"I'm just impressed you managed to keep up with him."

Scarlett cast Ripcord a disparaging look, before she slowly helped the unknown woman to her feet. She was shaking and unsteady and Snake Eyes stepped forward to grasp her other elbow, keeping her upright. She had her head down, mascara and eyeliner causing her to weep black tears, and she was still white as a sheet, but she was standing. Her dark blue eyes slid to one side, finding him, and she tightened her hand around his forearm. He interpreted it as a form of gratitude and nodded to her.

"Call an ambulance, Breaker." Duke shrugged his shoulders as he exhaled. Mission failure after mission failure was weighing hard on them all. "We need to be gone."

"Already on their way."

Scarlett thrust the woman's boots at Ripcord who held them like he was not entirely sure what they were. An amalgam of solid sole and slender heel and adorned with laces and buckles, they looked impossible to walk in. Snake remembered the practical way in which she had shed them as soon as possible.

Snake Eyes also remembered the force with which they hit the beam and knew that she would be bruised tomorrow. His shoulders tightened as he regretted that he was unable to prevent her from being injured, but at least she was alive.

They took the time to return Snake Eyes' knife to him and remove the rope from his belt, before he and Scarlett carefully guided her down the stairs of the construction building. At one point Duke had offered to carry her, but she had shied away, obviously wanting to keep her feet firmly on land. By the time they got down to the street, a small crowd had gathered and the faint sound of an ambulance siren called in the distance.

Duke's brows drew together, "We need to be gone."

Snake Eyes and Scarlett both nodded, reluctantly lowering the woman to the ground.

The moment her arms were free, Corbin hugged the coat closer to her as she sat down heavily in the gutter. She was no longer crying, but she still felt like someone had removed her spinal column and she was relying on the slender neurons along her back to hold her up. She was vaguely aware of others gathering around, a staring crowd. She was vaguely aware that an ambulance was pulling up. She was vaguely aware of blue-gloved hands coming into her field of vision.

She was also vaguely aware that she should properly thank the man that saved her, but her mind was still comprehending the fact that she had been saved at all, let alone committing itself to the complicated task of talking.

A gurney appeared beside her and she half-climbed, half rolled onto it with the assistance of the blue-gloved hands, just happy that she didn't have to stand. Her boots landed in her lap, courtesy of one of the paramedics as the other checked her over. The gurney lurched into the air sharply and she tried not to pass out as inertia and shock decided it didn't like that. Hugging her coat and her shoes, Corbin looked out over the faces of those gawking and staring and...

_Was that person filming_?

Of the six people that saved her, however, there was nothing.

Corbin blinked, stupidly, as the gurney was lifted into the ambulance. She cast one last, searching look through the gathering crowd and in doing so spied the twisted, mangled mess of the beam protruding over the sidewalk, having nearly bisected a car with its weight.

All thought of thanking her hero was chased from her mind at the sight. As the doors closed, cutting off the garish image, Corbin McQuinn finally broke down crying.

Grammy Kaye would be so disappointed with her.

**~}*{~**


	3. Ch 2: A Cruel Necessity

**Warning**: Frequent coarse language. Violence.

**Chapter Two**

_A Cruel Necessity_

**~}*{~**

'…how has thou disturbed  
Heav'n's blessed peace, and into Nature brought  
Misery…'

_Paradise Lost, _Book VI, 265 - 267

**~}*{~**

**Somewhere in South America**

Boots sounded off stone, echoing through the corridor and back to the man as he traversed the darkened halls. His gait was filled with pride and purpose and he blatantly ignored the armed and armoured guards, regardless of their own actions towards him. He had passed the initial security screening and, after that, they had simply ceased to exist. He wanted to get to _her_. He needed to show her that the Joes had, again, failed to capture him. That he had, again, succeeded. The world's best had not been enough to stop him.

He turned with a flourish of his coat and stared at the smaller man that was guarding the door barring him from his goal. The guard's faceless helmet stared back, like he was trying to beat the taller man in some kind of silent contest. Finally, the guard reached back and passed his hand over the activation panel. The door beside the guard segmented with a pneumatic hiss and withdrew into the stone wall on either side.

Whereas the outside corridor was a crypt-like vastness of ancient stone illuminated by halogen lights and security feeds, the interior of the room before him shone resplendently new and glamorous. The sterile white walls and floor were all glazed metal. The open area before him, set in the floor, was filled with computers, desks and varying stations of research.

His eyes unerringly found the woman he sought, sitting at her desk and typing away at her keyboard like nothing new had transpired. Like there wasn't a man leaning over her, whispering to her quietly, at least until the newcomer stepped into the room. Then the man raised his head and narrowed his eyes, glancing over his shoulder.

Her hands paused on the keyboard and she pressed the toe of one of her shoes to the floor, turning slightly in the chair so she could fix one brilliant, green eye upon his humble form.

"Zephyr. Well?"

Zephyr's lips peeled back from teeth in a grin that was pure animalistic, savage delight. He pulled back his coat as he stepped towards a nearby table. Half a dozen discs, USB ports and folded bits of paper landed on its surface, scattering like trophies of battle.

"Excellent." Serafina Montag's voice was soft and delighted a she rose to her feet. Heels clicked off the sterile floor of the laboratory, carrying her from her chair to the table. Neat fingernails brushed over the items, sorting through them. "You got everything I asked for?"

Zephyr nodded and stepped towards her, dipping his head like a domesticated pet desiring praise. His reward was a loving caress, his eyes fluttering closed as he delighted in the indulgent touch from Serafina. Dyed blonde locks bounced as she looked over her shoulder, green eyes bright with delight as she stared at the other, who remained in his place behind her chair.

"I don't see why you continually doubt him. He has not failed yet, despite the best efforts of the Joes."

Zephyr hummed with delight at her praise, burying his face against her palm.

The man behind her, taller, broader and wearing an elaborate garb that was far more showy that it was practical, folded his arms over his chest and stared back at her silently, "They have their purpose, I agree. But I am yet to be impressed."

Zephyr turned his dark eyes to the man and suppressed a snarl. Barely. He was utterly perfect. His very existence was a thing of awe. Who was the man to act like Zephyr was nothing?

"Understandably," Serafina murmured, smiling warmly at him. Her petting hands kept Zephyr calm, as if she could sense his displeasure. "Regardless, everything is going excellently, you cannot deny that. If you would, I need to continue with my work."

The man did not move, his eyes fixed on Zephyr's in another staring contest. Zephyr was no more inclined to lose this one as he had been with the guard at the door. Though he was told that this man was his 'superior', he did not think that in any way. The only person that Zephyr listened to was Serafina.

The doctor sighed and stepped away from Zephyr, causing him to lose the contest as he cast her a forlorn look of abandonment. That look faded into irritation as she crossed to the man and lifted her hands to his face. Zephyr tensed with jealousy.

"You should go rest. You look ti-"

Before she could touch him, the man caught her tiny wrists in his strong grip, hard enough to grind her bones together. She lost her smile and Zephyr tensed, ready to hurl himself to her defence.

"Release me."

Slowly those fingers uncurled, letting her go. The man narrowed his eyes, "Do not think to give me orders."

Zephyr uncurled his fists.

"I was giving a recommendation," Serafina returned curtly, dropping her hands, all appearance of motherly concern fading "Take it or leave it. But I have to get to work and you will just be in the way."

The man's jaw worked silently as he stared at her, nostrils flaring with a harsh exhalation. Without another word he turned sharply, his cloak snapping with his movement. He brushed past Zephyr in a childish display of dominance. The laboratory door hissed closed behind him.

The moment he was gone, Zephyr allowed a look of hatred to cross his face. As Serafina lifted her hand to rub her wrist, he crossed to her side quickly and took her hands in his.

She brushed her hands off quickly, stepping away, "You did very well. I am very proud of you." She turned her hands palm up and he willingly lowered his head into them. "Now, I have one more thing to ask of you, my dear. One more thing."

His eyes lifted to hers, obedient, full of love and adoration.

"Do you remember the girl that you took? The one you grabbed off the street?"

He nodded against her hands and was rewarded with a cold, cunning smile as the angelic face before him became a mask of serpentine delight.

"Good."

**~}*{~**

**Somewhere in Egypt, about the same time**

**The Pit**

"First of all let it be said that no one is blaming you, Snake Eyes. If anyone else had been in your position, they would have done the same thing. Your performance, if anything, was admirable."

Snake Eyes did not react to General Hawk's words, staring at the man in his customary silence. They knew what he was thinking, even if he never voiced it. No one might blame him for losing the suspect, but Snake Eyes blamed himself, and nothing anyone said would change that.

Hawk paced from one side of the control room to the other, Alpha Team standing at the fore of a mass of Joes that were assembled to hear his words.

"That being said…" Hawk turned to face them, his aged face filled with severity and gravity. He did not disapprove of what the Joes had done thus far, but the situation was not a good one. "We have nothing."

Duke exhaled and dipped his chin, staring at the holographic table before him like it would somehow present him with the answers. Heavy Duty shifted discontentedly and folded his arms more firmly over his chest.

"And I am afraid to say that the international pressure upon the Joes is mounting," Hawk's brows lowered as he looked at each of them. "We have to find them."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Duke rubbed his thumb over his jaw, resituating his feet. "We'll get right on that. So, tell me, what is it that we haven't been doing these last months that we should now do?" He pointed at his feet to emphasise his sarcasm.

No one reacted to Duke's sharp comment. The Joes were the top dogs of the military world. They were not meant to be outdone.

Now they were long past being outdone. They were being humiliated in front of the united nations that funded and backed their organization.

Everyone was antsy, angry and hostile. Tempers were short and professional pride was frayed to the bitter end. Even Snake Eyes, a man of rigid control and restraint, was beginning to wear thin under it all. All they could to do was wait until the thief struck again and pray and hope that a Joes team was close enough to act.

It was not the way they functioned, but they had little choice.

Hawk sighed and turned his back to the Joes, staring at the screens behind him. They were consumed with a mass of images taken of the thief fleeing from the various locations he had stolen from. His leering grin, his mocking smirk, was exactly the same in all of them.

On the street, he could have been anyone. An ordinary – albeit tall – man. But to the Joes he was the avatar of their failures.

Fingerprints, facial scans and the occasional bit of DNA matched nothing except itself. Other than the thefts, it was as if the man didn't even exist. A ghost.

Appropriate, since that was what he was when they tried to catch him. He could disappear regardless of his location, be it in the depths of the desert, the middle of the forest or in the midst of a bustling city.

As if that was not bad enough, when their combined investigative efforts turned up a collective nothing, the Joes were left struggling to find their footing. Even when Cobra had first emerged, when McCullen had manipulated them so easily, when all of it had gone to hell in a hand basket, they had still retained some control. The entire event had endured for little more than a week.

They had now endured almost a year of having the man slip through their fingers with military-grade biochemical and genetic research the likes of which could have devastating effect in the wrong hands.

As the silence stretched and the assembled Joes began to wonder if Hawk had simply called them together to tell them what they already knew, their commander finally drew a breath and looked back at them.

"Next time we catch a break, Joes, we need to go for it with everything we have. We cannot let this continue. You hear me?" He turned to face them properly. "_We_ _do not fail_. Do anything you have to get what we need. Anything."

As Hawk dismissed the Joes, Snake Eyes thought on the woman he had saved at the cost of losing the thief, after getting as close as they ever had to catching him.

He sincerely hoped that Hawk had not just told him to let the next hostage die.

**~}*{~**

**New York City**

"_I can't believe you _cried."

"I nearly _died_. I'm allowed to cry."

"_Bullshit_._ You hung out over a drop for a while. And you didn't die. And _then_ you cried. You're such a pussy_."

"Have some fucking sympathy!" Corbin's outraged voice rang through her apartment, echoing out from her bathroom.

A feminine snort of contempt sounded in her ear. "_No way. If you wanted sympathy, you should have called Paige. But you called me, and anyone who knows me knows I don't deal in sympathy._"

"Why _did_ I call you?"

"_I don't frigging know_."

Corbin stared at the lurid red and purple contusions on her torso, scowling as she shifted her swollen breasts inside her bra, making small sounds of pain.

"_Hurts, huh_?"

Corbin juggled the phone against her shoulder, "Yeah. I wasn't wounded or anything, really, but I got bruises all over the damn place. My tits look like someone scooped them out, put them through a grinder and put them back in my skin." She yanked her shirt back down over her torso and sighed.

"_Sexy_." Something shifted on the other end of the phone. "_Were you really saved by a ninja_?"

"I guess. I mean. You know all those kung fu movies we watched? He totally fit in there." Corbin rubbed her eyes and stepped out of the bathroom. "It was fucking surreal."

The woman on the other end of the phone sat back with a sigh, "_Damn. All the fun stuff happens to you_."

"That's because you never leave your goddamn apartment," snapped Corbin as she headed into the kitchen. "You even get groceries delivered to your door! Go out, Jackie. Live a little." It was a wonder the woman wasn't morbidly obese and fused to her couch. She certainly didn't do any exercise; she just bummed around, watched movies, played video games and wrote for a living. She _did_ only eat one meal a day, but that was usually only if she remembered that eating was a necessary function of living.

Eccentric little weirdo.

"_No thanks. Socializing gives me gas._"

"Well if I could give you my exciting experiences, I would. And this country is just _full_ of them. Of all the places. _America_. Why didn't we go to Europe? At least then the accents would be _hot_."

"_And get kidnapped and made into snuff films by scary backpacker killers? I don't think so. All they have in America is gangbangers and inbred cannibals, and as long as we stick to the city we have only gangbangers to worry about. If you want, you can go back to Australia. Me? I think I'll stick around. Oh, hey, you're on the news_."

"The news?" Corbin slammed the fridge door closed and headed to her living room, stepping over half-finished dresses and clothing designs to leap onto her couch. Crouching down, she turned on the television and saw her ass and fishnets in the shaky home-video that had been sent in. Her expression grew flat. "Oh, that's hot."

"_Sure is. Hey, he _is_ a ninja_."

Corbin's mysterious rescuer was strapping the harness around her, and she caught flashes of the people in the building every now and again.

"_He even has a katana_."

"So that _was_ a katana."

"_I can tell that from _this_ distance, you couldn't tell when you were up next to him_?"

"I was a _little_ preoccupied by the thousand foot drop under my ass."

"_And a fine ass it is. Holy-!_"

Corbin shuddered when the beam fell out from under her, sending her and her rescuer falling towards the building. She watched him cut the rope, and felt her stomach drop out anew as they flew into the building. "See! See! It's scary!"

"_That was _awesome_._"

"_Jackie_!"

"_What? It was! Come on, you were harnessed. And in the arms of someone that looks kind of a lot buff. Who appears to be a legit ninja person. Who saved you. Hero laws one oh one: never let the damsel in distress die. By all female rights, shouldn't you be swooning now? Oh, that's right. You_ cried_. Bravo, Corbin._"

"What would _you_ have done?"

"_Stolen his katana and run back to my apartment. And then, when he came to get it back, ensure I was in lace up, knee high, spike-heeled boots. And nothing else_," Jackie added the last with relish as she did something that sounded like putting the kettle on.

Corbin shoved up from the couch and returned to the kitchen, toeing the fridge door open. "Oh. I'll remember that next time I see him." She rummaged for something to snack on, wincing as bending over tormented her front.

"_You should. I bet he's great in bed. Imagine the endurance! Did he speak Japanese at you? _Nihongo o hanashimasu ka?" Jackie banged around in her own kitchen. She was definitely making a cup of tea. "_I think_."

Corbin slammed the fridge closed, scowling with exasperation and toting a tub of yoghurt. "You took one course. _One_. If you speak Japanese at me again, you worthless wapanese gimp, I'm hanging up."

"Pardonnez moi."

"I get it! You're multilingual."

"_Barely. Just as far as greetings, swear words and obscure statements go. _Volez vou coche avec moi ces coiz?"

"No." Corbin shook her head as she padded back to her living room and browsed through her movie collection. "No. And I _told_ you he was a ninja."

"_And now I believe you._" The kettle boiled on Jackie's end of the phone.

"But here's the _weirdest_ thing."

"_It gets weirder_?"

"All my hospital bills were paid for." Corbin pulled out the 2009 _Friday the 13__t_h remake and examined it, before putting it back.

"_That _is_ weirder!_"

Corbin's expression went flat. "Shut up. Anyway. I went to the hospital. Ambulance. The works." She pulled out _The Dark Knight _and then tossed it in front of the TV, followed by _Iron Man_. "Not a cent." _The Incredible Hulk_ landed next. "Everything was paid for already."

"_Paid for. As in someone else, 'mysterious benefactor' paid for_?"

"Something like that."

Jackie made a sound of dark amusement. "_So, what are you thinking? You got saved by 006? James Bond's super secret spy ninja co-worker? MI-6 paid for your hospital expenses_?"

"Why are you being sarcastic about that? I got saved by a _ninja_. Anything's possible."

"_I guess_." There was another pause. "_Hopefully it's over, though. And you don't have to worry about it anymore_."

Corbin's head snapped up and her eyes went wide. "Why do you say that?" She put her hand over her bruised torso, holding a copy of _Serenity_.

"_I just got a feeling_." Suddenly she heard the sound of a card being turned over.

"Shit! Did you just do a reading for me?" Corbin _hated_ it when Jackie pulled out the cards. Normally she wouldn't put much stock in it, but her witchy friend's readings went along the way of her feelings; Jackie-Lynn might have been an eccentric, weird, antisocial kook, but she was almost always right.

"_Just make sure everything's locked tight for the next few nights_._ That's all I'm saying_."

**~}*{~**

Jackie's words were ringing in Corbin's ears as she finished the sign with a flourish of her marker, detailing that she would be out of the store for the next few days for medical reasons, and then crossed to the door to tape it in place. She gave one last look over her merchandise, tugging down the cloth covers over the dresses in the window to protect them from dust, before gathering up her designs and stepping out of her store. Locking the door behind her, she smoothed her fingerless leather gloves over her jeans and stared at it one last time.

Once again, Jackie's words rang through her head and she found her palms sweating inside her gloves. _Masquerade_ was her pride and joy, her life's work and ambitions boxed up in the tiny two-storey store smashed between a sushi bar and a music store, with a third floor that was little more than an abandoned ghost story. The store had cost her a pretty penny and a few ugly ones to get on the semi-busy New York shopping strip, rather than be lost in obscurity in an alley, and she didn't want to lose it.

When the fashion moguls of the world had turned their nose up at Corbin's designs, she had given them a big ole' "Fuck you," and opened her own store filled with her clothes, selling – and wearing – whatever she wanted. It wasn't a booming business, but it was business, and Corbin could wear whatever she damn well wanted.

Jackie-Lynn Matthews was also one of her best customers, whenever she deigned to come out of her apartment. Jackie was also one of Corbin's oldest and truest friends, and though she could be cranky, flatly hostile and as subtle as a freight train to the face, she had never steered Corbin wrong. When Corbin had been down on herself, with no prospects, terrified and alone, Jackie had cashed in her chips and convinced Corbin to relocate with her to America, the land of opportunity. Or where opportunity could be bought cheaply, she had said. Corbin had taken several wrong turns during that time, but Jackie had always been there to drag her back onto the right path, by her hair if need be.

Yeah, Corbin made a lot of mistakes in her youth – and still did at a tender twenty six years of age –, but Jackie had always been there for her. She wouldn't baby her, or make her decisions for her, but she would support her when Corbin couldn't support herself.

Corbin reached out and touched the door, her fingers easing over the glass as she stared at the darkened store beyond, hoping against hope that Jackie's eerie way of knowing the future wouldn't mean disaster for _Masquerade_.

"Medical reasons?"

Corbin turned sharply, startled, and exhaled when she saw who it was. Mackenzie, Mac to her friends, adjusted her silver furred jacket as she eyed Corbin sceptically, her cornflower blue contacted eyes lined heavily with kohl and blue powder, complimenting her peroxide white-blonde hair.

"Nice outfit. Aren't you cold?" Corbin eyed her bare legs emerging from beneath her Daisy Duke shorts, which ended in a pair of honest-to-God cowboy boots. It was early morning and the city buildings had kept in the night's chill and Corbin knew that Mac wouldn't have taken a change of clothes to whatever client she had just left. Apparently a client that wanted her to dress up like a farm-yard girl. Eugh.

"Freezing. What medical reasons?"

Corbin answered by opening her coat and lifting her shirt, exposing the lurid bruising on her torso.

"Holy _shit_!" cried Mac, stepping forward. Corbin recoiled as Mac reached out to touch the marks, shoving her shirt back down. "Who did that to you? Tell me, and I'll slit them open from crotch to throat. And I know people who would be happy to get rid of the body, believe you me." Mac shook a finger at Corbin's face, eyes wide with indignation.

"You didn't see me on the news?" Corbin arched her brows. Mac would be the _only_ one. Someone on the subway had seen Corbin and she had become a small sensation on the public transport, much to her angst. "Last night? Hostage situation over on-"

"Holy shit, that was _you_?" Mac stepped closer, leaning towards Corbin. "No shit! I didn't know it was _you_. And no, I didn't see you on the news. I was working last night."

"Ah," Corbin nodded. "Yeah. It was me."

"So you're taking those… one of those things… Oh there's a word for it…"

Corbin cocked her head, "Leave of absence?"

Mac snapped her fingers. "No, no."

"Time to convalesce?"

"I don't know what that means, but no."

"I… don't-"

"Hiatus!" Mac scowled. "No that's not it."

Corbin shook her head, laughing quietly, "Look, I'm just gonna head, I think. I wanna go home."

"You heading to the subway? I'll walk you."

As Corbin turned and Mac fell into step beside her, their heels clicking on the concrete, she said chidingly, "You don't need to protect me on the way to the subway, you know."

Mac shoved her hands into the jacket of her furred coat, snorting, "You've already shown you're pathetically incompetent at protecting yourself. I can at least see you to the train safely, my lady."

"You treat all your girls like this?"

"Girls, yeah. Men? They have to pay." Mac examined her perfectly manicured silver nails.

"Check it." Corbin smirked. "For once, you're getting more stares than I am."

"Yeah, you're wearing _jeans_. You look frigging _normal_." Mac eyed Corbin up and down. "As if _that_ wasn't a clue you were sick."

"Steel-boned corsets and waist-cinchers are a little hard when your entire upper body is a mass of contusions."

"What the fuck is a 'contusion'?" Mac distorted the word, her head bobbing on her neck.

"Bruise."

"Just say _bruise_!"

"Sorry, sorry. I've spent too long with Jackie."

Mac snorted crudely, "The woman has a vocab like the goddamn Oxford dictionary. I can't understand her half the time. I don't see why you're such good friends with her. _I'm_ far better company, and I'm a _prostitute_."

Corbin smirked as people rubbernecked at Mac's loud declaration of her occupation. "Actually, you're an escort. And a sorry thing it is when an escort is the most _normal_ of my friends."

"Ain't that the truth?"

**~}*{~**

Zephyr watched her as she returned to her apartment building, alone. She entered her apartment where she lived entirely by herself. No partner. No pets.

He ran his teeth over his tongue, anticipating the event to come. His previous escapades, although thrilling when being pursued by the G.I. Joes, were not examples of his skill. They did not challenge him. The Joes, for all of their boasting, were abysmally easy to elude. There was that one, black-clad fighter that had been more enduring than his fellows, something that he thought to challenge himself with. But, like all the others, he had failed to halt Zephyr even momentarily.

Zephyr had always succeeded, and he would now.

Especially after Serafina had told him how important this woman was to her plans. Especially after she had told him how important his success was to her ambitions.

He would not fail her.

Zephyr's muscles bunched as he crouched down, staring at the building far below, his long nails scraping over the concrete eave he had situated himself upon, lost among the gargoyles and effigies that surrounded him, veiled in darkness. He saw the light go on in the woman's apartment, saw her cross in front of the window and strip off her coat with a wince of pain.

His grin widened as he shivered with delight, his eyes turning to the horizon, stained red with the setting sun.

Soon.

**~}*{~**

**The Pit**

Team Alpha spilled into the briefing room, having been called from their various locations around the Pit. Duke and Ripcord were last, breathless and flushed, having run all the way from the training floor. Though they had been hard on the heels of Snake Eyes, the ninja showed no signs of fatigue as he took up position by the table.

Breaker, Heavy Duty and Scarlett were already there, and Ripcord and Scarlett fastidiously avoided one another's eyes as they formed a semicircle around the holographic briefing table.

They wondered why the military had rules against fraternization.

Opposite them was Hawk, arms folded over his chest and his legs braced. Projected in a hologram above the table before them was a man wearing all black, his black hair cut just long enough to fall into his face, a full head and shoulders over those around him. He was standing on the street, staring up at a building nearby, unaware he had been photographed.

Snake Eyes tensed.

Breaker spoke, his accented voice fast with tension, "He was spotted on a store's security camera and the system flagged him only seven minutes ago. So far, he hasn't moved from this location." Breaker keyed up a map of the neighbourhood, the man's location depicted atop a building as a little red pulsing circle.

"We have him," said Duke. "We can't mess it up this time. We go in quick, quiet and careful. No mistakes."

Snake Eyes could not agree more.

"That's not all, Duke," said Hawk.

"We ran a check on what and who is in the area to see what he could be interested in. There's nothing there except for coffee shops, a jewellery store, town houses and apartment buildings. But in one of the apartment buildings…" Breaker keyed a shift in the holographic projection and the profile of a woman appeared, listing her details beside her 3D image.

Snake Eyes' chin lifted slowly as he recognized her.

"That's…" whispered Scarlett.

The hostage.

"Her name is Corbin McQuinn," said Breaker. "And her address is…"

A blue circle appeared on the buildings directly opposite to their target.

"I'm going to bet that's not a coincidence," said Ripcord.

"He's going after her." Heavy Duty's voice was hard with anger.

Hawk nodded. "Whatever he's doing, we need to find out. And if he is going after this girl, we need to know why."

"Alright," Duke stepped back from the table. "Alpha Team! Mount up!"

Snake Eyes was already out of the room before the last words even left his lips.

**~}*{~**

**New York**

The healing process sucked.

Corbin had now spent thirty six hours, give or take, with her bruising, and it was only beginning to hurt more. Wearing her bra alone had unleashed new realms of pain, but she didn't want to take it off. She felt weird and uncomfortable without décolletage support, even in her own apartment. Natural boobs were just not that perky. Especially when they were gross and purple.

The only time she would go without a bra was to bed, and even then it hurt. Lying on her side hurt. Lying on her back hurt. Lying on her front was impossible.

It was looking to be as sleepless a night as the first.

More than that, she kept thinking about her mysterious ninja rescuer, and she was half afraid that when she did get to sleep, she would have some weird, sexually repressed dream about him, which would only compound her list of complications.

Or maybe relieve them.

Corbin exhaled sharply and shifted around a little, trying to get comfortable. Yeah, like sex dreams would make her feel any better.

God, anything had to be better than lying in bed for hours on end, unable to get to sleep. She had just stayed on the same side, not moving, attempting to bore her brain into unconsciousness, but had met with all of the success of Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the hill.

Corbin opened her eyes and glanced at her clock, the red numbers mocking her with the time just ticking over to the wee hours of the morning. It would be dawn in about three hours, meaning that she had three hours before she had to give up. Sighing, she put her hand over her face and groaned, wondering if she should take a sleeping pill.

Shoving herself up with a grimace, she turned and swept her coverlets back, swinging her legs up and over the side of the bed. When she lifted her head, her whole world stuttered to a stop and her heart stopped beating and became a gaping cavity of fear in her chest.

There as a man standing in her bedroom doorway.

Corbin and the intruder went motionless as their eyes met, both of them frozen in the moment. His eyes narrowed slowly and hers went painfully wide. For the second time in as many days Corbin's fight-or-flight mentality kicked into overdrive and this time she listened.

Rather than screaming, Corbin grabbed her blankets and flung them into the air as the man dove across her bed. Rolling to the floor, she shoved herself to her feet as he fought his way free of the covers. As she heard them rip, she flew through the door to her bedroom and slammed it closed.

Grabbing the table that sat beside the door, she tipped it over in front of it and bolted to her couch. Bending over to grab the end, she hefted it around as hard as she could, and then threw her whole body against it, sliding it over the carpet and jamming it against the table just as the door was thrown open. The table smacked into the intruder's shins and as he tried to leap over it, he collapsed face-first onto the couch.

Corbin bolted into the kitchen with a sound of terror as the intruder fought his way free from the confining upholstery. Desperate, Corbin ended up grabbing the cutlery drawer, ripping it out. With a snarl of rage, the intruder entered the kitchen doorway and copped the whole drawer to the face. Forks, butter knives, soup spoons, paper-wrapped chopsticks and plastic sporks rained everywhere as Corbin drew back the drawer and hit the man again with a grunt of effort, driving him back. Her foot slipped on a spoon as she bent down and grabbed a fistful of cutlery, hurling it at the retreating man. She followed it with her whole drying rank, pots and pans raining down on him as he shielded himself from her barrage of kitchenware. A fruit bowl went next, apples and bananas scattering everywhere.

He roared and charged at her and Corbin hurled herself out of his way. With a scream of effort Corbin pulled her fridge away from the wall, thanking God that all she could afford was small and slender, and toppled it on top of the man. As he went down beneath the heavy appliance, Corbin bolted through the scattering of magnets and slid over the counter and into the hall beyond.

Grabbing her microwave, she shoved it with everything she had, hoping that it came down right on the man's head. Snatching up her shoes and her keys off the table in the small hall, she threw open her apartment door and slammed it closed behind her, locking it with her key. Leaving the key in the lock, since she didn't have a car, Corbin turned and ran down the hall, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"_Someone call the motherfucking police_!"

She banged on doors and kicked them as she ran past, before calling the elevator. Realizing her stupidity, she turned and bolted down the stairs, hearing the doors ding open just as her own door was ripped off its hinges with the sound of splintering wood. Corbin screamed like a banshee all the way down the stairs, not stopping to hit any more doors. She was rewarded when lights went on, but she just made her way to the first floor, grabbed the heavy door to her apartment building and heaved it open.

As she ran out onto the street, a van slid to a stylish sideways halt and the side door was ripped open.

"_Holy fucking shit_!" Corbin staggered back, gasping, as she saw the black-clad ninja saviour step out. "You have got to be fucking _kidding_ me!"

The two of them stared at one another and Corbin was once again frozen in terror. Something smashed above her head and she turned, but before she could see what it was something yanked her back by her shirt as glass rained down onto the street. Staggering back and past the ninja, she let out a soft cry of surprise and awe as her attacker soared from her window and came down onto a car, almost folding it in half with the impact of his body.

Unfazed by the three-floor fall, he leaped nimbly out of the wreckage. Corbin gasped as the black-clad saviour rushed forward and past her, leaping up to engage the attacker in a very familiar whirlwind of martial-artist mastery. Corbin's eyes flew wide as she stepped back, her free hand flailing at the air.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

Someone grabbed Corbin from behind and she swallowed a scream, turning to stare at an unfamiliar face as she jerked back on her restrained arm.

"Calm down," the new man – and there were so many of them now – said with calm she most certainly did not feel. "Miss McQuinn. My name is Duke. You're safe."

Well, as far as Corbin was concerned, _that_ was all a matter of perspective. Before she could say as much, 'Duke' spun her around and shoved her back towards the van, sending her sprawling on her front with an undignified grunt.

"Are you alright?" came a female voice as Corbin shoved herself up.

"You!" Corbin sat up and pointed at the red-haired woman in the skin-tight black suit. "And him!" She pointed at the black-clad man who was in the process of beating the living shit out of her would-be attacker. "What the fuck!"

"I'll explain everything once we get you to safety," insisted the red-head. "I promise."

"What… what… What?" she finally finished, shaking her head and gaping.

The van rocked sharply and Corbin snapped around to see the black-clad ninja had landed feet-first against the side. Crouching against it as his momentum ran its course, he shoved off and bodily tackled the creature into another parked car.

"Cops are on their way!" the black man in the front seat had a very, very cockney accent.

"We have about seven minutes before they get here," a mocha-skinned man peered over the passenger seat of the van like a timid mouse.

"We'll be gone before they get here. Snake! Duke! Ripcord! Get that guy!"

Corbin shoved her feet into her Chucks and did them up blindly, watching everyone as they focused on the fight between the ninja and her attacker, quietly cursing Jackie and her fucking feelings.

Snake Eyes ducked under a blow to his head and drove his fist up under the man's arm. Then he smashed the side of his hand into his throat, choking him. Snake's elbow followed through, snapping its head to the side and he grabbed its shoulders, driving his knee twice into its stomach.

"Get him down, Snake!" shouted Duke, whipping out the flexi cuffs.

The man roared and threw itself at Snake, catching him around the middle and going rolling with him. Flinging itself off him, the target came to its knees with what looked like a gun in his hand.

Duke and Ripcord lifted their rifles and Snake Eyes drew his sidearm, aiming from the ground at the creature's chest. Instead of aiming the gun at them, the creature pressed the tip of what they realized was some sort of hypodermic device into the underside of his jaw. A macabre grin stretched his face as he stared at them.

"Failed again, Joes."

"Stop him!" shouted Breaker as the target depressed the trigger, emptying the contents of the vial into its jugular.

A shudder wracked his body and he released the empty hypo. A single, hacking cough escaped him, wet and thick like he was breathing through a film of phlegm. Without any further warning, it simply disintegrated into a mass of blue-black goo like a burst water balloon. The clothes collapsed to the ground with a sickening slap, a widening circle of filth spreading outwards.

"Well, that seemed familiar," murmured Ripcord, lowering his gun.

Heavy Duty glanced over his shoulder, and then did a double-take, "Shit!" Everyone turned to him as he flung his arms wide behind the driver wheel of the truck, taking in the empty van. "Where's the girl?"

Corbin McQuinn was gone.

**~}*{~**

People often threw around the statement 'if their life depended on it'. Corbin got to know that phrase very intimately as she ran further and faster than she ever had, wearing nothing more supportive than a tight tank top, which meant her aching, bruised, battered breasts were screaming at her to stop. Corbin wasn't the most fit person around, either, so when she kept running after her legs and chest were adding their voices to her tormented chest, she thought she should be rewarded at some point in life.

Or, hell, continuing to live would be a good reward.

Her Chucks slapped against the pavement as she slowly dragged herself to a stop, coughing and gasping harshly and tasting metal on her breath. It would be just like her to have an aneurism or throw an embolism when running for her life. Digging her nails into the wall of the alley she had stopped down, she spat on the ground between her shoes and looked behind her.

Nothing.

Stepping away from the damp brick, she stepped into a quiet rural neighbourhood, apartment buildings and townhouses stretching above her. She wasn't quite sure where she was, but she knew if she headed to her left, she would be able to find the main street that would take her to her own street.

But did she want to go home right now?

Corbin braced her hands on her knees and closed her eyes, panting as sweat slicked her body. Jackie. She could go to Jackie's house. But she was quite a distance away. She had to avoid being detected or mugged in her pyjamas until then. God, Jackie-Lynn would laugh her ass off at her.

Wiping her hand over her face, Corbin shook the sweat from her palm and straightened, turning to head left. She wouldn't go all the way to the main street, but she would go parallel to it until she hit the highway that would take her to Jackie's neighbourhood. She wasn't sure how long it would take to _walk_ there, but since the subway ride was about twenty minutes, she was betting it would be well into daylight by the time she knocked on Jackie's door. That was if she didn't get lost, too.

Well, she was committed, now, so she might as well go all the way. Sighing, she turned and walked off down the street, wrapping her arms around her chest self-consciously and hating that she slept without a bra. An underwire would be great about now.

There was a roar of an engine and a screech of tyres behind her, making Corbin spin sharply. A very familiar van spun around the corner of the street and hurtled toward her with frightening speed.

"Oh fuck _off_," she snarled running even as she turned. She barely got two steps when she saw a black form rushing at her from in front. Swearing vilely, she jerked backwards, but a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm behind her, spinning her around. As she opened her mouth to scream, a glove-covered hand clamped over her face. Without thinking, she sank her teeth into the soft material, knowing she got skin beneath it. Her captor didn't flinch as he hauled her with disgusting ease toward the van that skidded to a stop.

Corbin kicked her legs, throwing her weight back against her captor, who she now knew was the black-clad ninja, and slammed her feet on either side of the door, preventing herself from being shoved inside. The red head grabbed one leg and a dark-skinned manned grabbed the other, pulling her feet free.

Corbin screamed bloody murder into the man's hand as she vanished inside the van.

**~}*{~**

_Thank you for reading my fiction. If you have time, please leave a small review of any improvements that could be made or mistakes that you have seen. I welcome all creative criticism.  
_

_Thank you for reading._

_Anne_


	4. Ch 3: Disquiet Notions

**Warning**: Frequent coarse language.

**Author's Note**: Rewritten slightly.

**Chapter Three**

_Disquiet Notions_

**~}*{~**

'...and out of good still to find means of evil...'

_Paradise Lost_, Book I, 165

**~}*{~**

**Somewhere in South America**

"_Montag_!" Doors that slid into walls did not allow for dramatic entrances, but he gave it a fair go as he shoved it further into the frame and entered the laboratory like a storm. "You said it was the best! You said it was the _best_!"

Doctor Serafina Montag turned from the console before her, lowering the glasses on her nose as she stared at the man that railed at her, "I did."

His hand slammed down onto the metal table that separated them, "It failed to get the girl!"

"I am aware," she turned in her chair and pointed at a monitor that was showing readouts that she knew he couldn't hope to decipher. "I was aware the moment he ceased to function."

"And you said it was the best!"

Montag got to her feet and crossed to the table, arms folding over her chest, "Repeating yourself does not get a different answer. Calm down, please. This is not even a setback. Everything is going according to plan."

"But your best _failed_, Montag. It failed and we don't have the girl!" Serafina reached out and touched his cheek, but he jerked away, snarling, "Don't try and distract me from the fact that your pet was worthless."

"He has succeeded every time before now. He gave his life for his mission. Can you not at least show him some respect for him in death?"

"I don't care about the prior successes, Montag. It failed _now_ and that is all that matters!"

"It did not fail."

"Well that didn't look like a roaring success to me!"

"Please," she stepped around the table and put her hand on his arm, scowling. "Please calm down. This is not good for your health, my dear. Look at Serafina." She cupped his face in her hands and made him turn and look at her, focusing his gaze onto her eyes. With a shake of her head she sent her glasses onto her chest, hanging from the fine silver chain that spanned between the arms. "When have I steered you wrong, my darling? When have I ever not put your interests first? Please believe me. Trust in me. I am still in control of the situation. This is not even a minor setback. I am still fully and completely in control."

"The Joes have the girl," he snarled.

"They will get nothing out of her. Nothing. I promise you." She lowered her hands and smiled at him, "And since when have I only ever played one angle? The Joes are a faction of men lead by men. Primitive, imperfect men. Nothing compared to you, or my creations and certainly nothing compared to me." She held up her hands when the man before her looked ready to strike her in rage, "I serve you, my dear, and your will. Please trust in me. Continue your activities as you will, and allow me to do as I will and I promise you that you will get everything you desire. And your destiny."

"I want it now, Serafina. I want my destiny _now_," he grasped her arms and jerked her close, shaking her.

"Not yet," she murmured, calm despite the way his hands clenched on her arms. "No yet. It isn't time. But I will give you everything else, I promise. And before the end, your destiny will be unveiled. I promise. Along with everything you want most."

"Power. I want power," he whispered. "I want the world! And I want the Joes _dead_. All of them."

"Yes. I will give you the Joes on a silver platter, like pigs with apples in their mouths. I promise you. When it is over, you will have your destiny in your hand, Doctor Mindbender's legacy placed in your grasp. I promise. Everything is going according to plan. Trust me."

**~}*{~**

**Egypt**

**The Pit**

"Does anyone else get the feeling that this girl wants to kill us?" Ripcord stared through the two way mirror before him at Corbin.

The young woman was sitting in her pyjamas, which consisted of pale blue tank top and pants done in a camouflage pattern of varying shades of blue and white. She was rubbing her left wrist where the flex cuffs had left a red line on her skin due to her twisting and ripping at them continually. There was a red line on her face where she had been gagged after screaming bloody murder the whole time in the van and they had briefly tied her feet when she had slammed her foot squarely into Ripcord's crotch when he had carried her to the waiting jet. She was currently held within one of the surprisingly few interview rooms that the Pit had, which was all of two.

For all if its military splendor, it seemed that the place was not meant to house prisoners.

Abruptly her eyes shifted from their death glare on the two way mirror to about three inches to the left, which had them resting on Ripcord's clavicle. He shivered and sidestepped, putting himself behind Snake Eyes.

"She is mighty displeased," said Heavy Duty.

"I don't blame her," said Duke, stroking the red line she left on his jaw before they could truss her. "These haven't been the best three days for her."

The door opened, permitting General Hawk into the room. Instantly Heavy Duty called for attention and Hawk waved it aside. "At ease. Breaker. What do we know?"

As one, everyone turned to the bronze-skinned Moroccan as he read from the tablet in his hand. "Corbin Alice McQuinn. Twenty-six years old. Date of birth, April 17th. Australian born but holds a dual citizenship for Australia and America. Did not complete final year of tertiary education. Mother… is an unemployed woman on government funding. Father is an architect. Parents never married. She is estranged from her mother and has been since she was eighteen, where she relocated from Echuca, where she was born, to Melbourne, Australia, where she worked as a..." Breaker cleared his throat, "waitress, bartender and exotic dancer."

Rip's brows winged up and he opened his mouth, but when he received dark looks from both Scarlett and Duke, his jaw snapped shut and he dipped his head.

Breaker scrolled through the information with a scowl. "Relocated to America when she was twenty two and opened her own store called _Masquerade_, where she sells alternate clothing. Designs her own clothes. And that's it." Breaker looked up from the tablet, waving his hand. "There is nothing significant about this girl whatsoever."

"Nothing at all?" prompted Hawk. "No reason why an international thief of military information and research would want to kidnap her?"

"Medical records say she has her tonsils and her appendix. She had a few visits for bumps and grazes in her childhood and was involved in an accident when she was fourteen that required a short stay in hospital. Apparently she fell out of a tree? Suffered a concussion and some broken bones and abrasions, but there's no lasting damage except for a reported weakness of her left wrist."

"She fell out of a tree?" Ripcord asked, voicing their incredulity. "That's _it_?"

"It doesn't seem to be the record of someone that's connected to the thefts of biochemical research," agreed Heavy Duty. "Sounds like every other kid out there."

"She went to the hospital after the incident yesterday. One of her ribs has a hair-line fracture. Contusions of her upper torso. Nothing significant."

"I say she'd argue otherwise." Ripcord's brows rose.

Duke stepped up to the window and stared at Corbin as she kicked at the table leg idly, slumping forward over the surface before her. "Well the thief was after her for some reason. It specifically targeted her, after all. The first Considering that, the hostage situation mightn't have been a matter of chance at all."

"I don't think so," countered Breaker. "When they took her as a hostage, they left her to die, essentially. She likely would have, if not for Snake Eyes. It's more likely that the situation brought her to their attention."

"Which made them go back for her," Scarlett nodded.

Heavy Duty glanced at Scarlett before looking through the window as well, "But what would they have wanted her for? What could she possibly have that would be of any interest to them?"

Snake Eyes also looked at Corbin, shoulders working silently. Had he inadvertently saved a terrorist? Had he inadvertently saved someone that was working for their enemy? Had he inadvertently brought her to their attention?

"Scarlett."

Snake Eyes glanced over his shoulder at Hawk, as did Scarlett.

"Yes, General?"

"Go in there and see if she knows anything."

"Yes, General."

**~}*{~**

Corbin stopped fiddling with her grandmother's ring when the door to her room opened. Instantly she spun towards it, ignoring the way her upper body screamed in protest.

"We're very sorry about this, Miss McQuinn," said the woman. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"A change of clothes and a cup of what the hell is going on would be good, thanks."

The woman looked at her silent as she sat down, then sighed and closed her eyes, "Miss McQuinn-"

"_Don't_," Corbin cut herself off before she screamed at the woman. Taking a moment to calm herself, she continued. "Don't try and be my friend, alright? You're not my friend. Just… tell me what the hell is going on."

"Actually, we were hoping you could help us with that, Miss McQuinn."

Corbin blinked, and then looked off to one side. "Oh that bodes well for me."

The woman leaned forward and laced her fingers together, her face and eyes filled with empathy and concern. "Miss McQuinn, I need to ask you a few questions, and we would appreciate it if you answered them as honestly a possible.

Corbin's eyes narrowed, wondering how much of the emotion on her perfect face was genuine.

_Don't get scared. Get angry_, whispered Jackie's voice in her head.

Easy enough.

"Do you know who the man was that attacked you the other day and took you hostage?"

Corbin said nothing, still staring at her.

"Miss McQuinn-"

"What…" said Corbin slowly, lifting a finger to point at her, "the shit… is going on?"

"Please answer the question, Miss McQuinn," said the woman with the same earnest entreaty.

"Not until you answer mine."

"Miss McQuinn-"

"First of all," Corbin held up her hand. "Call me Corbin. Ms McQuinn is my mother. Secondly … let's save one another time, alright? Whatever questions you ask me, I don't know. Whatever you think I might know, I don't. I know _nothing._ Which would be why I am asking _you_ what the hell is going on. Because _I_ would really like it if you'd share it with me."

"If you don't know anything, why did you run from us?"

"Why would I stick around?" Corbin asked, incredulous. "In two days my life has been turned upside down, dropped, kicked and put through a blender, and it seems to happen every time I see one of you guys! You guys are oh for two for good things happening when I see you. And, by the way, turned out to be a good idea since you snatched me off the frigging street!"

"We would not have taken you into custody if we had any other choice."

"Custody? I'm under arrest?" she gaped. "I haven't done anything wrong! You haven't even read me my rights."

"You aren't under arrest-"

"Alright. Then I would like to go home." Corbin rose to her feet and stared defiantly at the woman. "If I'm not under arrest, I can go home, right?"

The woman took a deep breath, "Please sit down, Miss… Corbin."

"No."

"M… Corbin, this will go much easier if you cooperate."

"Why the hell should I cooperate?" she asked, bracing her hands on the table. "You haven't told me anything! I don't know who you are, I don't know where I am and I don't know who's behind there." She pointed at the two way mirror. "For all I know, you could be the bad guys."

"We aren't the bad guys."

"The good guys don't kidnap people," Corbin said, pointing at the woman.

"We did not kidnap you."

"By definition, taking me against my will and holding me somewhere I don't want to be is defined as kidnapping, but if you really didn't kidnap me, then you'll be fine with me going home."

"Corbin, I'm not sure you understand just how dire the situation you are involved in really is."

"I am not _involved_ in anything," said Corbin. "I have fucking idea what the hell is going on."

"You don't know who the man was that held you hostage?"

"No."

"You don't know who entered your apartment?"

"Considering it was the same guy, _no_."

"You have no idea why anyone would want to attack you?"

"Oh, there are plenty of reasons guys might have a grudge against me," Corbin shrugged. "What he wants with me? I have no fucking clue." With mounting frustration, Corbin held up her hands. "Look. Lets save one another a lot of time here, alright? I have no idea what is going on. That includes you guys. You haven't even told me why I'm here or what you _think_ I might know or be guilty of. _I_ know I haven't done anything wrong, believe me I know how to be a little careful with that kind of stuff."

When the woman opened her mouth, Corbin lifted her hands again and shook her head, "No. Don't insult either of our intelligences here, please. You obviously think I've done something, or am involved in something major, but I really, really don't know anything. But you won't believe me, and my answer won't change. So now we're at a stalemate, because I'm done 'cooperating' with you." Corbin folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs under the table. "So unless you want to break out the bamboo slivers and blow torches, this conversation is _over_."

**~}*{~**

"We aren't going to get anything out of her," murmured Hawk, staring at her through the glass. "I don't think we would have even gotten her _name_ out of her."

"If she's lying, she's very good at it," said Ripcord.

"Or she might actually know nothing," Duke murmured quietly.

Hawk shook his head. "We need to be _sure_."

Duke turned from the room. "Snake."

Snake Eyes glanced at him, then at Hawk. Once the general gave his silent permission, Snake followed Duke out.

"Why Snake?" protested Ripcord. "Why not me?"

**~}*{~**

Corbin's head turned sharply when the door opened again, permitting a man she didn't recognize and her masked 'rescuer' turned kidnapper.

"Oh, yay," murmured Corbin, slouching against the table. "The cavalry."

The lead man, who seemed to epitomize the jarhead cliché, offered something to her. "Gum?"

"Ouh. Dubble Bubble?" she took a piece and sat back. "Why thank ye."

The woman rose to her feet and the man nodded at her, grasping her chair. As the black-clad man took up position to one side of the room, arms folded over his chest, the other spun her chair around and dropped in it backwards. "Name's Duke."

"Dispense with the pleasantries," Corbin said as she removed the gum from the wrapper, jerking her thumb at the window without looking up. "I'm going to assume you were on the other side of the glass the whole time, so we don't really need to go through the whole thing again, do we?" She broke the gum in half and popped one portion into her mouth. When Duke scowled at her, she explained, "When this bit runs out of flavour, I put the other one in."

"Huh," he tipped his chin up. "Nice."

"Yeah, I'm so talented, I know how to make gum flavour last twice as long," she said in a voice that should have been in an infomercial.

"Corbin," said Duke slowly. "Let's try this again, alright?"

With a sigh, she sat back and shrugged. "Alright. Who's he?" She jerked her chin at the black-clad man.

"He's called Snake Eyes. He doesn't speak. No. I don't know why."

Corbin narrowed her eyes, not expecting him to actually answer. "Snake Eyes?" When she looked at the ninja, he nodded his head in what she assumed was a greeting. How nice, politeness from kidnappers. Well, she could be polite, too. "How's the hand"

He flexed it, demonstrating that it was fine.

"Sorry for biting you. You might want to get a rabies shot." As he tilted his head, Corbin turned to the woman, "I didn't catch your name."

"Scarlett."

She turned back to Duke with wide eyes, drawing in a breath, "Riiiight." But she was much more cooperative now and she resettled herself in her seat, chewing on her gum quietly. Grammy Kaye always told her to chew with her mouth closed. Setting her jaw, she stared at him in silence, turning the change of events over slowly. Finally, she nodded, "Alright, Duke. Let's play ball."

"Corbin, you're suspected of somehow being associated with several incidents of international terrorism and the theft of military property."

Corbin froze. Well she hadn't expected _that_. "Come again?"

"If that is correct, and you're suspected of being an international terrorist, then your Constitutional Rights are suspended. It's why we took you. It's why we can't tell you anything. Because-"

"Whoa!" she flung her arms wide. "Whoa whoa whoa," she slashed her arms over her body with each cry. "You think I'm a _terrorist_? What the hell made you think that?"

"In recent months there has been a number of thefts of military-grade biochemical, biological and genetic research of both classified and above classified levels. There was a single culprit. Two days ago, he took you hostage."

"What… he… what?" she shook her head, sitting upright. "How does that make me a terrorist?"

"The same man came after you a second time with the intent to either kidnap you or kill you."

"Maybe he was trying to get rid of evidence!"

"We already know what he looks like, Corbin. There was no reason to associate with you further. But he came after you."

"So, what, you think I got his details or something? I'm sorry, I think I lost the napkin with his number on it when he _threw me out of a building_."

"The person that came after you, Corbin," Duke sat forward, staring at her, "was a highly efficient fighter, and has eluded us for months. Snake Eyes," he gestured over his shoulder, "was matched by him in hand to hand combat, and I have _never_ seen that before. He was dangerous, and he was deadly and he came after you. When he failed, he killed himself. We need to know why he wanted you."

Corbin shook her head, feeling numb, "I… I have no idea." She looked at Snake Eyes, who was unmoving and silence, and Scarlett, who was staring at her with a perfectly blank face. Or a blankly perfect face. Corbin swung back to Duke as he began speaking again.

"He's been stealing military level research, Corbin, biological and biochemical research. If whoever he's working for used that information to create weapons, they could kill tens of thousands of people in a single hit. We need to know what they're doing."

"I don't know. I don't."

"Millions of people could die if we don't find out who he is working for and what they are doing."

"I don't _know_!"

"They came after you, Corbin. He was sent, specifically, to take you. There must be a reason for that, and we need to know it."

"_I don't know_!" Corbin screamed, slamming her palms onto the table. In the ensuing silence, only her breathing was heard and she dropped her head to stare at the table, breathing harshly. "I don't… I don't know anything. I don't." She looked up at Duke, then over at Snake Eyes. "I don't know anything." She returned her eyes to Duke, settling back and hating the fact that she was shaking, "I don't even know who you are. You could… you could be working with him for all I know…"

Duke glanced at the window, then said quietly, "We're part of an international military group designed to keep world order, and that's all I can tell you. We wouldn't have taken you against your will if we had any other options, believe me. But the fact is we don't. If you know _anything_ about what happened in the last few days, anything at all, tell us. Please."

"I don't know anything. I don't. Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell you. I really would. I'm not saying this for stubbornness. I don't gain anything by telling you nothing. I really, really don't know."

"You swear it?" asked the scarred man. "You really don't know anything."

"On my grandmother's grave," she said quickly, putting her hand over her heart, blinking rapidly. "I swear to God. I'm not a nice person, I'll be the first to admit it, but I would… I'd never be involved in anything like that. I swear to fucking God and the Devil."

"You don't know why they want you?"

"I'm a _dressmaker_," she said. "I sew clothes for a fucking living. I don't… I don't…" She shook her head sharply, looking around as if she could find the answers written on the walls. "I don't even sell _normal_ clothes. You can look at all of my commissions for the last four years! You can examine my bank records! Anything. I'm not a terrorist! I'm not… I don't know… They shouldn't want me. I swear to _God_ I don't know why they want me."

"If you did, would you tell us?"

"Yes. Yes. I would." She shook her head, "But I swear to you I don't know anything, Duke."

"I believe you." Corbin sighed with relief and sagged in her seat as Duke turned to speak to the mirror. "I believe her."

There was the sound of an intercom being activated and a tired male voice rang through the room, "So do I."

Duke rose to his feet and stared at Corbin, who was watching him with renewed terror, "I'm sorry." He crossed to the door and opened it, jerking his head. Scarlett hesitated, but Snake Eyes nudged her elbow, and she filed out in front of him. Snake Eyes gave the barest, almost unseen hesitations at the door, before following behind the others.

The door clicked shut behind them all, locking Corbin in with the imagined echoes of Duke's words. Slowly she put her hands over her mouth, realizing how badly she was shaking. It had to be a joke. It had to be some sort of huge set up, a candid camera thing to broadcast her reaction to America. Shit like this just didn't happen to her.

Corbin rested her head in her hands and fisted her fingers in her hair, staring at the table between her elbows.

"This can't be real…"

**~}*{~**

"That was quite a risk, Duke," murmured Hawk.

"Sorry, sir," Duke lifted his chin like the dutiful soldier he was. "But I figured that if she was involved with the terrorists, then I wouldn't be telling her anything she didn't already know."

"And now she's a civilian that knows more than she should."

"With all due respect, sir… I felt like she had a right to know what was going on. Her life has been rather wrecked. She's a civilian, sure, but she's gone through more than any civilian would."

Hawk was still doubtful, one eye narrowing slightly as he stared at Duke askance.

"Are you going to toss me for telling, sir?"

"I'm thinking about it. That was a serious breach of security, Duke."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"No you're not." Slowly Hawk turned to the interview room, where Corbin was slumped with defeat over the table, her black hair hiding her face.

"Snake… the General's right. It wasn't your fault." When Snake Eyes didn't respond, Scarlett sighed, "What could you have done, Snake? Not saved her? Went after the thief? She'd be dead. But right now she's alive, and we can protect her, and that's all thanks to you."

Snake Eyes slowly lifted his hands and signed.

_Her life is over_.

"Not necessarily," countered Scarlett. "If we can… find out who these people are, what they want… if we stop them, she can go back to a totally normal life."

"_I want to go home_!"

Everyone turned to the glass, stunned, at the hoarse shout that emerged from Corbin. She was sitting in her seat, slumped down in defeat, her dull eyes fixed on the window opposite her. "_I want to go home. Please. I want to go home_."

"She can't go home," Heavy Duty turned to the others. "She'll be a sitting duck."

"We can't just keep her here, can we?" Scarlett glanced at Heavy Duty, before whirling towards Hawk. "Can we?"

The general sighed, "I could try and get it through as protective custody. But she _is_ our only lead."

"We can watch her," offered Breaker. "I can put surveillance on the neighbourhood. In her home."

"Yeah, because from what she's shown, she'll be _really_ open to that," Ripcord's brows rose.

"It's not about what she's open to," said Heavy. "This is a little bit more important than what she wants. We need to find those thieves and she's our only means to getting him. If they come after her again, we can be ready. Right now, she's all we have."

Silence reigned, before Hawk sighed again. Then he turned and walked from the room. Team Alpha glanced at one another, before filing after him, stepping into the interview room in his wake.

Corbin was on her feet, staring at Hawk and wiping her face and nose with the back of one arm, "I want to go home. I've done nothing wrong. I'm an American citizen. I have… I have Constitutional Rights or something…"

"With all due respect, if you're suspected of terrorism, your constitutional rights are somewhat suspended."

"I'm not a terrorist!" she shouted. With a groan she slumped over the table, "Which is like the motto of terrorists, right?"

"We're willing to let you go, Miss McQuinn."

Her head snapped up and she fixed them with such a look of hope that made more than a few of them feel like absolute heels.

"On a few conditions."

"Okay," she said quickly. Before they could wonder at how fast she agreed, she made a 'come here' gesture with her hand. "Let's hear them."

"You and your home will be under full surveillance at all times. We expect that if they've tried for you once, they'll try for you again. It's for your own safety."

She hesitated, clearly weighing up her options.

"No cameras inside my home," she said.

"Alright."

"And don't think you can put them in without telling me," she pointed at them. "I can make myself look really ugly. It'll be naked time and nose picking galore, I swear it."

Hawk got an expression of wry amusement. "Alright."

"And how do you mean I'll be _watched_?"

"We'll be keeping an eye on you." That was all he was going to say on it, it seemed.

Corbin sat back in her seat, scowling. "But I get to go home, right?"

"Yes. You get to go home."

"It's a deal."

**~}*{~**

The military might stock uniforms, but they didn't stock bras, and when a well-endowed woman was not wearing a bra, _everyone_ knew.

Perky breasts were either unnatural or freaks of nature, and though Corbin could be freaky, her breasts were of the garden variety D cup size. So as she sat on the super secret jet/plane that was taking her home, she had her arms folded self-consciously over the green singlet top she wore. Though tight, the support was nil.

She was sitting comfortably between the stony silence and broad shoulders of Snake Eyes and a dark-skinned man they called 'Heavy Duty'. When she had first been introduced to the cockney-speaking man, Corbin – not very tall herself – had been suitably cowed. After a while, though, she was just left trying to recall which ear was the 'gay' ear to get pierced. Not that it mattered and not that it counted beyond a high school level, but it was bothering her.

So was Snake Eyes, actually.

The man had his katana resting between his knees, the end of the sheath braced on the floor between his feet. He was sitting perfectly, rigidly, in-control-of-everything straight, his head up, and he acted like he was the only person on the jet. At least everyone else acknowledged she existed. Duke spoke to her. Scarlett tried to comfort her. Heavy Duty _stared_ at her. The African American named Ripcord had tried _flirting_ with her, but Corbin reminded him that she had canned him in the crotch once and would happily do so again. The small man known as 'Breaker' had fastidiously avoided her, for the most part.

Snake Eyes was entirely indifferent.

Which meant that Corbin was interested in him.

God_damn_it.

"Look," she tilted her head towards him. "I know I was a bit of a bitch back there."

Ripcord let out a "Hn!" of amusement that made her slant him the stink eye, before turning her head towards Snake again.

"But you did save my life the other day. And earlier. And… I did get a bit knocked around, but it wasn't your fault and I'll take internal haemorrhaging and bruising over being a 2D red smear on the pavement any day. So… thanks. I guess."

His masked face nodded once, acknowledging her words.

"Oh, hey! A reaction!" she pointed at him, smiling. "Now if we can do the other thing your head can do. Which is to shake back and forth for a 'no'. Then we'll have made progress from no words to two. Which, I must say, is more than what most men are capable of, anyway." She shrugged. "Some have barely progressed past the point and grunt stage."

His head turned towards her and she shrank back slightly when all he did was _stare_. His visor might not have been directed straight at her, but she could _feel_ his eyes.

"Uh… sorry?"

Snake Eyes looked straight ahead once more, freeing her and allowing her to pick up the scattered bits of her dignity.

"I'm told I talk enough for five people, so having a conversation with someone that can't actually speak would probably even things out slightly."

"Doesn't."

She blinked, startled, and looked at Heavy Duty, "What?"

"Doesn't," he said again. "He doesn't speak. Not can't."

"So he _can_ speak?" she asked, pointing at Snake. She turned to him. "You _can_ speak?"

"But he _doesn_'t."

"Does he make noise?" She looked from Snake to Heavy Duty and back. "So can you do the point and grunt? Let's try." She furrowed her brow and nodded her head, and pointed at the opposite wall, "Hungh!"

Snake Eyes didn't react.

"It's like talking to those royal guards standing outside Buckingham Palace," she muttered sourly. "If we pull enough faces, maybe he'll laugh."

"I wouldn't count on it," said Duke from across the jet.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I _was_."

"Snake Eyes is the most proficient and skilled ninja known," said Scarlett with more than a little pride from where she was reading at the back of the jet. "It'll be harder to make him laugh than it would anyone else on the planet."

"I dunno," muttered Corbin sourly. "You don't seem to have the biggest sense of humour." When neither Snake Eyes nor Heavy Duty reacted to her joke, she exhaled and sagged down in her seat. "This is going to be the longest plane ride _ever_…"

**~}*{~**

**New York**

Corbin sat on her couch, hugging a teddy bear to her chest as she watched Breaker test the equipment he had installed in her door. Her lids drooped sleepily and she wanted to pass out on Higgins' head, but she didn't dare take her eyes off of them for a moment.

"Security system is up. Mainframe computer is synched. Phone is prepped for 911. No cameras or microphones." He pointed at her as he walked past, her sharp blue eyes following him. "Damage is repaired. We've put cameras on the street, just for added security. The nearby roofs have their own surveillance systems. Alright." He lowered the high tech pad in his hand and looked at her, flipping up the technological monocle he wore. "Everything is good to go."

"Good," she said sharply. "Now _you_ go."

Breaker skittered off like a chastened puppy and Duke folded his arms over his chest, staring at Corbin from near her door, "You're in danger here, Corbin. If you'd just let us give you a bodyguard…"

"No," she shook her head. "No. Just no. So many levels of no. One, this is a one bedroom apartment and either he's crashing on the couch or in my room and that is just _not_ happening. Two, that is _so_ the beginnings of so many trashy romance books out there that I can see the bare-chested cover boy in his _way_ too tight jeans leaning over me as we speak. Three? You saw me woken up in the middle of the night, adrenaline charged and terrified. He'll see me in the _morning_. A week of that and he'll be filing for counselling and quitting on the spot. No. No. Just no."

"You could have stayed with us."

"_More_ no," she pointed at him. "I am _not_ staying on some military base with you guys. I'm sure you're nice and all that, but I want my bed, and my pillows, and my walls, and my goddamn caffeinated coffee and my fridge stuffed full of chocolate and cheesecake and no MRE's. Yes. I know what an MRE is."

Snake Eyes stepped out of the bedroom and flashed a thumbs up.

"Oh, good, my apartment passes ninja inspection approval," she snarked at him. When he stared at her, she dipped her head and scowled. "I'm sorry! I'm tired. Go away so I can get more sleep."

Corbin watched Snake Eyes leave, or rather she watched his ass leave, then her eyes shifted to Duke and she jerked her head pointedly at the door.

"Remember," he said quietly. "Everything you know is beyond confidential. You can't tell anyone anything. It's a matter of national and international security."

"Believe me," she murmured. "As far as I'm concerned, Duke? None of this _ever_ happened. I'm not going to tell _anyone_."

**~}*{~**

"_You know when they tell you _not_ to tell someone, you generally _shouldn't._ Especially when you promised not to. They probably have your phone bugged and are listening in right now. That puts me in danger, I hope you know. I don't appreciate that_."

"Oh shut the hell up. You'd want to know anyway. Besides, you never spread gossip, so I can safely trust you with my secret," Corbin hugged her bear tighter and stared at her windows, which were all firmly locked, repaired with bullet – and person, she supposed – proof glass and had the curtains drawn resolutely across them. "Anyway, what can they do to you?"

"_You ever watch _V for Vendetta_? _Aeon Flux_? Black bagging is the way of the future, girl._"

"This is America, not fascist Great Britain or a false utopia. It's far from utopia, even a false one."

"_They can make me disappear._"

"Houdini couldn't make you disappear. You're far too scary for that. If World War III came about, all we'd have to do is clone you and drop you into enemy territory."

"_I'm pretty sure cruel and unusual torment is a war crime_."

"It will be when it's over."

There was a pause as the two of them tried to come up with something light-hearted to say.

"_What kind of a name is _Snake Eyes_, anyway?_"

"Don't ninjas usually have cool pseudonyms?"

"_Yeah… but it's something like _Shadow Step_ or _Walks On Water_ or _The Emerald Dragon_, or some shit. _The Cat_. Not _Snake Eyes_. Snake Eyes is a shit roll, anyway. And the movie was pretty balls, too._"

"Hey, hey. Nothing with Nicholas Cage in it is balls. Nicholas Cage _gives_ it balls."

"Ghost Rider_._"

Corbin swore, "Yeah okay. That was pretty balls. But he was a real ninja. One of the _best in the world_, or so I was told."

"_Or so you were told. Like they're going to tell you, 'Yeah, he's a ninja. He's not that great, but he's on our team which makes him totally kick ass'. Of course he's _the best_. Otherwise he wouldn't be on the super secret spy team. Why _is_ the world's best ninja on the super secret spy team, anyway_?"

"I guess the pay is good?"

"_You should come over, anyway. You can sleep at my place for a while_._ At least until you know this stuff might have blown over_."

Corbin was too used to Jackie's habit of pulling hairpin turns in conversation topics to be thrown by them anymore. She just gave a derisive laugh and shook her head. "Blow over. Yeah. No. In case something does happen, I don't want you to be in any danger."

"Now _you care. They can trace my address from this phone call, moron. If I was going to be in danger, I already am. Thanks for that, by the way_."

"I didn't mean the jarheads."

"_Neither do I._"

"They made sure my phone wasn't tapped."

"_Oh, yeah, cause they're _so_ truthful and reliable._"

"I need to rely on _something_, Jackie." She got to her feet and paced across her living room. "I need some fucking stability in my life right now. I need to just believe that the American military has promised to keep me safe, and they're going to keep that promise."

"_If you're so scared why didn't you stay with them_?"

"You know why, dammit," Corbin spun around angrily, staring at her empty apartment and the numerous items of clothing she had abandoned halfway through making. She could barely eat let alone make clothes. "It's the same reason _you_ would want to come home."

"_True. Rather die on my feet than live on my knees. Rather be free, briefly, than survive in captivity_._ A gilded cage is still a cage_. _Blah blah blah, I could go on_."

"I know you could. I don't care. Go on if you want."

"_You think those kidnappers are going to come after you again_?" asked Jackie quietly.

"Logically speaking, they didn't succeed the first time, and nothing seems to have changed…" Corbin shook her head as she trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself.

"_Buy a dog. A big one. With big teeth_." There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "_I'm scared for you, Corbin_."

"I'm scared for me, too, Jackie…" Corbin sat back down on her couch and curled into a ball around her teddy bear. Her hand came out and scooped up the knife on the coffee table, holding it against her chest. "I'm scared for me, too."

**~}*{~**

Outside of Corbin McQuinn's apartment, a figure crouched down in the exact spot that her kidnapper had crouched. Gloved fingers traced over the edge of the roof, before curling around the concrete moulding.

The figure watched the lights turn off in the apartment, darkening around the edge of the blocker curtains. Corbin had gone to bed.

Snake Eyes settled in for the night.

**~}*{~**

_Thanks for reading! If you have the time, please leave a review._

_Anne_


	5. Ch 4: Breathless

**Warning**: Infrequent coarse language. Long chapter.

**Author's Note**: Chapter has been re-written.

**Chapter Four**

_Breathless_

**~}*{~**

'…Why is life giv'n  
to be thus wrested from us?'

_Paradise Lost, _Book XI, 502 – 503

**~}*{~**

**New York City**

A newspaper rustled and a gimlet green eye stared over one sagging corner, "Nervous?"

Corbin glanced over. "What? No. Why?"

The eye disappeared. "You're fiddling with your grandmother's ring. You always do that when you're nervous."

Corbin dropped her left hand away from her right. After a pause, she rotated the white gold ring so that the diamond and sapphires set between the twin bands were facing up. When Corbin had gained weight, the ring needed to be resized to fit her ring finger. Her grandmother had been a tiny thing, with pale, delicate fingers, but Corbin wouldn't have the ring anywhere else.

Except on her left ring finger.

"No I don't."

"Sure you do." Paper rustled as a page turned. "What's wrong?"

_I'm afraid that someone is going to rip me out of this chair and take me away. I'm afraid someone is going to try and kidnap me. I'm afraid I'm going to be killed. I'm afraid…_

"Nothing." She folded her hands over one another and looked at the newspaper. "Really."

Theagan dropped the paper and folded it over once, sighing as she rested her arm on her distended stomach. "The mom genes are already kicking in, Corbin. I know you're lying."

"Yeah, well," Corbin narrowed her eyes, "you're not _my_ mum. So don't try it out on me, alright?"

"Uh huh." Theagan lifted her chin. "By the way, if they don't arrive in the next five minutes, I'm going to eat you."

Corbin's brows winged up as Theagan shook open the newspaper once more, the blonde disappearing behind it. The frightening thing was that Corbin was not entirely sure Theagan was joking.

"Just order something, then."

The newspaper dropped as both Theagan and Corbin glanced over at the accented voice. Theagan sat up straighter and folded her arms over her chest.

"One of these days I'm going to stop being surprised at what you two wear."

"Excuse me?" Corbin glanced over to Theagan. "I'm dressed _far_ more normally than her." Corbin swivelled to watch Jackie-Lynn sit down, arranging her voluminous skirts around it. "You look … well you look normal for you."

"Are you kidding? She looks like the bastard child of Moulin Rouge and Mortisha Adams."

"Now _that_ would be some quality porn," comment Corbin.

Jackie glanced down at her attire, the typical solid black that she was when she ventured out of her apartment. Regardless of the weather, of course. Corbin admired her for her fortitude. Even though solid black in New York wasn't so bad, in Australia it had been a health hazard. At that moment, Jackie wore an embroidered black corset and a many-layered bustle skirt, from under which emerged tattered fishnet stockings and vanished into knee-high lace up boots.

"Corbin here looks positively demure." Jackie-Lynn reached out and curled her lace covered fingers over Corbin's black tie, rubbing her thumb over the spiderweb at the bottom. It was the only splash of colour on Corbin aside from the metal of her buckles.

"She looks like a biker's moll."

Corbin drew her leather jacket over her plain black shirt and miniskirt, crossing one stocking clad leg over the other in attempt to appear more elegant. "I do not!"

"I see pregnancy is treating you well, Theags," said Jackie as she sat down, her dark eyes still fixed on Corbin. "How are the ribs?"

"Sore."

"You done with that?"

Theagan handed the paper to Jackie with new interest in Corbin, "Ribs?"

"She didn't tell you?" Jackie made a sound of amusement as she read the front page. "Uh oh."

Corbin slanted a dark stare at Jackie. "It's nothing."

"Show me your ribs."

"No! We're in a public location."

Jackie snorted. "Like that's stopped you before."

"Show them to me."

"Remember the conversation we had about you not being my mother? It hasn't changed!"

"Sabbatical!" A palm slapped down on the table, causing several people to look at them. Corbin stared down at the hand, and then up at the woman it was attached to.

"Milestone," Jackie-Lynn turned the page of the newspaper. "Washington." She allowed the top of the paper to sag down as she returned the three stares directed at her. "Is that not the game we're playing?"

"You're a freak," Mac jerked her chin at Jackie. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"We've had this conversation." Jackie flicked the paper to restore its rigidity. "Seems to be a day of repetition."

"She's a freak," Mac sat down and crossed one long leg over the other. "Where did she get that? Sluts R Us? You look looser 'n me and I'm a prostitute."

"Say that louder," muttered Theagan. "There's a man in a coma in a hospital somewhere that didn't hear you."

A finger lifted from the newspaper and pointed at Corbin, "Her store."

Theagan suppressed a smirk as Mac's mouth fell open. "Oh…"

"Sabbatical?" asked Corbin, uncaring.

"The word I was looking for the other day. You know. Instead of hiatus?"

"You were looking for sabbatical, and you came up with hiatus?" Theagan's brows rose.

"I'm just stunned she knows what 'hiatus' means," Jackie folded the newspaper up carefully.

"Fuck you, okay?" Mac squinted, "Is… is that a _top hat_?"

Jackie adjusted the tiny top hat with lace trim that was sitting on the mass of curls emerging from her head, "Yes."

"My child is not spending time with _any_ of you"

Theagan, eight months pregnant and well over the experience, was the oldest of the group at twenty nine. Married and heading into domestic bliss, she was also the least aggressive of the four, and the most 'normal'. She had her heyday, if the tattoos hidden under her clothing and closed-over piercings in her ears were any indication, but they were behind her. Well behind her.

Not so for Corbin or Jackie-Lynn who, in their mid-twenties, only seemed to be branching further and further into the 'alternate' and 'gothic' style. Corbin was more 'alternate' with her style and went through stages of colour, but Jackie had been a solid monochrome since the age of sixteen. Mac – the unrepentant streetwalker – and Corbin might get stares, but Jackie's heavily made-up face and extreme sense of fashion had more than once caused people to cross the street to avoid walking past her, something that delighted Jackie to no end.

The only one of their group that was missing was Paige, who was not really 'part of their group'. A very mild-mannered mathematics teacher that had a case of OCD that required heavy medication, Paige rarely went out with all four of them. Mostly because she needed everything to be in threes, and cafés rarely did things in threes. Three forks. Three salt shakers. Three plates piled on top of one another. No, Paige would stay home and work on her myriad of computer programming projects than go out to lunch.

Their sanities all fared better that way.

"Can we order?" murmured Theagan irritably.

"Yes let's, before Theagan grabs a random bystander and begins chewing on a limb."

Jackie leant back in her seat, lifting one arm and snapping her fingers sharply, "Service!"

Corbin was about to chastise Jackie for her lack of social etiquette when Theagan whirled on her with an expression of withering scrutiny.

"What was that about your ribs?"

**~}*{~**

Perhaps Duke had been right, and his bad feeling was simply paranoia.

Snake Eyes scanned the crowd one last time, the capture technology in his sunglasses recording everything they panned over and sending it directly back to the Pit. The HUD in the thin glass lenses picked out face after face, dismissing each as a potential security threat.

He had to say he felt very, very exposed without his gear on. It was perfect for sitting in the dark during his night shift and watching over Corbin's apartment, but he would not have been able to get anywhere near Corbin and her lunch date without attracting significant attention. All the Arashikage training couldn't make him disappear on a crowded New York Street in the middle of the afternoon. Even with a hood over his head and sunglasses, he was getting suspicious looks from the citizens who would constantly be aware of anything suspicious. If he had been wearing his gear and all of his weapons, he would have incited abject panic.

Had circumstances been different, one of the others would have taken the shift as Snake Eyes got some sleep before his night shift. But Alpha Team was absent, called away in response to a break in at a military base two thousand miles away to the south. There were no other Joes close enough to respond in time, but that also meant that there were no Joes to take up their post watching over Corbin.

So Snake Eyes had volunteered to stay behind, especially since his gut told him that something was going to go wrong. Hawk had ordered Alpha Team to respond, trusting that Snake Eyes would be able to watch over Corbin during the day for six hours.

Snake Eyes pushed himself off the wall as Corbin got to her feet, obviously done with lunch. She said farewell to her friends and they split up, heading back to their apartments.

Thanking whatever gods were out there that he could finally move out of the open, Snake Eyes vanished between two buildings, snatching up a duffel bag from behind a dumpster as he went.

**~}*{~**

Jackie and Corbin were walking down the street following their lunch date with Theagan and Mac. Mac lived in the opposite direction and Theagan's husband had come to pick his heavily pregnant hell-cat of a wife up.

"You think they found it weird?"

"That you called and demanded we all meet for lunch like it was Last Supper? _And_ that I actually turned up? No. Not at all." When Corbin remained silent, Jackie sighed. "Of course they thought it was weird. But no one said anything. They know better."

Indeed, for a tight-knit group of friends, each well respected one another's desire for privacy. Not including Theagan's mother-in-training moments.

Corbin splayed her hands over her stomach and sighed. The bruises were fading and they didn't hurt as much, but Theagan had still lambasted her for not telling her sooner about the 'incident' as they were calling it. She should have figured that Theagan didn't know when she didn't call her and blast her about it.

Even though she was the most 'normal' compared to the others, Theagan wasn't actually normal by any stretch of the word. Aside from being violently protective, the woman ran the _Lair_, which was an exotic pet store that sold spiders, scorpions, snakes and other assorted creepy crawlies. There was not a fish, cat or bunny to be seen within its walls and the mice and rats were snap-frozen snacks.

When Corbin had first met Theagan three years previously, the woman had announced that her giant Brazillian Black tarantula, which she had been transporting, had gone missing when she was stopping for coffee. When everyone stampeded for the door of the small café, including the staff, Theagan had chortled quietly to herself and revealed that she had had the tarantula sitting on her shoulder patiently the whole time.

Corbin, who had been watching, had promptly introduced herself to the woman who she later found out was dating an actual bounty hunter. Less than a year after she tied the knot with him, Theagan had 'accidentally' gotten pregnant. Or so she claimed. Corbin, Jackie, Mac and her husband, Patrick, were convinced she had poked holes in the condom.

That child was going to be _messed up_.

It would stand to reason that the least aggressive of the four friends – excluding Paige – was the only one able to hold on to a man. Corbin tended to scare them off, men left Mac when they found out about her work life, and Jackie just flatly could not be bothered.

At twenty-six, Corbin had yet to have a relationship with someone that lasted more than four months. Suddenly Corbin was contemplating the fact that she might die before she really knew what love was. She'd never pegged herself as a romantic, but there were some things a girl wanted to try, right?

Dragging herself out of melancholy musings, she glanced at Jackie.

"Is that a wig?"

Jackie glanced at Corbin around the silky fall of black locks, threaded through with vivid red, "Yes."

"Looks nice."

Jackie rolled her dark eyes, "You know I hate games. Just shut up if you don't want to talk about it."

"I'm scared." Corbin dipped her chin, scowling. If she couldn't talk to Jackie about it, who could she?

"I know. It's why I'm walking you home."

Corbin scoffed. "You really think you can stop anyone from kidnapping me? You're barely taller than me. And you're definitely not heavier."

"We've been in fights before." Jackie lifted her hands and flexed them, grinning with savage delight.

"Yeah, with drunk losers outside of strip clubs and stupid teen boys that think they know more than they do. Not with superhuman ninja terrorist people bent on world domination and/or destruction. A few self-defence classes won't help with that."

"You actually said and-slash-or, you realize that, don't you?"

"Shut up, okay? I'm just… shut up."

They continued walking for a time, letting the noises of the busy city wash over them. The only sounds that came from either of them were the sharp clicks of Jackie's heels and the heavy tread of Corbin's combat boots, with the occasional jangle from her leather jacket and myriad of belts. The crowd thinned out as lunch breaks ended and the working class returned to their places of employment. Soon Jackie and Corbin only had sporadic company on the sidewalk as they headed toward the less-populated areas on the route to Corbin's home.

"So really no word from the super terrorists or the secret military people?"

Corbin shook her head, "No. Not a peep. Which I'm hoping is a _good_ thing."

"Mm. If they have not contacted you, it would be that they have no _reason_ to."

"Hopefully they're off saving the world," Corbin closed her eyes.

"And have forgotten about you," finished Jackie.

"I'm crossing my fingers…"

There was a moment of silence as Jackie processed the tone of Corbin's voice. "But?"

Corbin smirked, "Something tells me I'm not that lucky."

Jackie slanted her a glance, "You really don't know why they'd want you?"

"Jackie, the only remarkable things about me are my temper, my designing skills and being able to put my leg behind my head. I don't know why international terrorists would want me."

"Maybe they have a uniform problem?" suggested Jackie. "Or maybe they're looking for in-house entertainment. I'm sure being cooped up under the ocean or on an island waiting for the climactic battle is bad for morale."

Corbin looked down at her not-fit frame, "They want to see _this_ shaking in a sequinned bikini under neon lights? I don't think so."

"Well there has to be a reason."

"I'm sure, but damned if I know what it is." She dipped her head, "It just seems so surreal, you know? This stuff doesn't happen to people like me. I'm not unordinary. I'm wholly and utterly unremarkable. I have a deadbeat mother and a shitty background and I'm not the smartest cookie. This stuff happens to lost progeny or… amnesiacs or… geniuses and prodigies."

"Maybe they meant to go after me, then."

Corbin was about to make a retort when ever tiny hair on her body stood on end. She stopped sharply in the middle of the street as the primordial instinct, the one that marked her out as a prey creature on the vast savannahs of her evolutionary origins, screamed at her to find the nearest tree and climb as high as possible, or the darkest corner and hide and keep as still as she could. Her shoulder blades rolled instinctively back and she turned, looking behind her. She got a few bemused looks from people that noticed her actions, but other than that she saw nothing significant.

Her eyes jumped to a car driving slowly past and she focused on it, watching it move beyond herself and Jackie – who had by now noticed that Corbin was no longer beside her and was returning to her side – and park some ways ahead. After a moment, a young man wearing jeans and a black jacket climbed out of the driver's seat and headed into a coffee shop.

Corbin jerked as someone bumped into her and she spun, planting her feet and bending her knees. The woman that ran into her apologized and cuddled up to her boyfriend, who passed Corbin a look of derision for her overreaction.

Corbin was about to relax when something drew her eyes upwards, like a finger below her chin. She scanned the rooftops beside her, expecting to see… something. For a moment she just stood there, wondering why she had looked up. Humans had no natural predators and none that could swoop from the sky, so looking up when afraid was unnatural, but she felt her eyes drawn toward the sky. Again, a shiver wracked her body, the chill of someone stepping over her grave somewhere in the future. The distant future, she hoped.

Something grabbed her arm and she whirled.

Jackie released her and stepped back, hands going up. Her eyes were wide and a line formed between her pencilled-in brows. "What was that? You just went _grey_."

Corbin rubbed her arm where Jackie had grabbed her, "You're right, Jackie. I can't… I can't live like this." It had been worse than when she was in the café, but could she really live like this? On edge constantly? No. She put her hand to her face, nails digging into her scalp, "Paranoia is going to kill me."

"Or it could keep you alive. What happened?"

"I feel… I feel like I'm being watched."

Jackie stepped closer, eyes narrowing, "The military guy said they'd be watching over you."

Corbin shook her head, "I feel like a mouse in a hawk's gaze, Jackie. I feel like… something's breathing on my neck."

A shiver wracked Jackie's body and her eyes widened. Before Corbin could think on her reaction, Jackie reached out and grabbed Corbin's arm, dragging her into a quick walk.

"We're going to get you home," she said as she turned. "We're going to contact the military men, and we are-"

A paper cup flew through the air and struck Jackie in the chest, splashing her with hot brown fluid. She spun away with a curse and cry of pain, lifting her arms to shield her face. Corbin turned to face the offending coffee-thrower and found her vision filled with the back of a hand. Her face exploded with pain and she flung out one leg, catching herself before she hit the ground. Her efforts were rendered moot when a fist slammed into her stomach, sending the air rushing out of her body and buckling her knees, causing her to drape uselessly over the arm that wrapped around her chest.

Sucking in a breath as she was hauled into the air, Corbin saw Jackie picking herself up off the ground, wiping scalding coffee from her face and chest. Jackie then turned with a look of hatred and hurled herself at the man holding Corbin.

"_Motherfucker_!"

All three of them hit the ground, Corbin rolling away and fighting against the jacket. She ripped it off of her head in time to see Jackie rear up over her attacker, drawing back her fist to deliver a violent punch across his face. She followed the motion through to strike him in the opposite direction with the back of her closed fist.

Wig askew, Jackie looked up, "Run, Corbin!"

"Like hell," was Corbin's reply as she got to one knee, one arm curled around her middle. Flinging out both hands, she grabbed the open car door and used it as leverage to slam her boot into the gut of the man emerging from within. He felt back into another man, who was reaching for the opposite door in the rear of the car. As they took a moment to disentangle themselves from one another, Corbin grabbed Jackie's clothing and hauled her up from the ground.

"Dammit, Corbin, I said run!" shouted Jackie, using the momentum of Corbin pulling her around to snap the sharp toe of her boot into the temple of the man she had been assaulting.

"Shut up," snapped Corbin, turning back to check on the man emerging from the car.

The mind is a remarkable thing. In a nanosecond of time, it can comprehend a thousand things at once. It wasn't that the world slowed down, it was that Corbin's understanding turned to hyper speed. In less than a time it took to blink, she processed a dozen things.

She saw the man emerging from the opposite side of the car. She realized that he was quite handsome, but otherwise unremarkable, with an average complexion, a bit on the tall side, dark hair and eyes obscured by sunglasses. Quite similar to the man on the ground. Quite similar to the man that attacked her at her apartment the week past.

What her mind focused on, however, was that he was holding his coat open with one hand, the other emerging from inside.

Corbin knew what would be in his hand before her mind ever recognized it. She watched it come to bear on Jackie and, without really thinking, hauled her friend toward her, shoving herself in the opposite direction and putting herself between Jackie and the gun.

Jackie turned and saw what she was doing, and why, "N-"

The man squeezed the trigger and silver flashed in front of Corbin's body. She recoiled, but instead of searing pain and a sharp impact, sparks flew, the sharp sound of metal striking metal ringing through the air.

As what few gawking spectators lingered screamed and fled, something caught Corbin's arm and kept her from falling to the ground completely. As soon as she had her feet under her, whatever it was let go and stepped past her, a katana turning easily around a black-clad body.

_Snake Eyes_, deadly and dressed for war.

Corbin wasn't even surprised.

Snake Eyes drew a gun from a holster on his hip, opening fire on the man on the opposite side of the car, sending him ducking for cover. Snake Eyes spun to deliver a back kick into the back passenger-side door that caved in the metal, closing it on the fingers that were wrapped around the frame. He completed the turn by bringing his katana around and slashing toward the bloody-faced victim of Jackie's wrath as he got to his feet.

Bloody Face dove backwards, narrowly avoiding having his throat laid open. Snake Eyes smashed the fist holding the hilt of his katana into the man's jaw, spinning him around, and holstered his gun at the same time. A twist of his body had something emerging from his side, swinging on a strap. An uzi. Snake Eyes caught it and whirled firing on the armed man on the opposite side of the car and sending him diving for cover again.

As Snake Eyes hammered at Bloody Face, the man that was trying to get out of the car made a third attempt. Snake Eyes turned and caught the door in the hand holding the katana before anyone could move to get out. Letting the uzi hang from its strap as Bloody Face reeled from a solid blow, Snake Eyes ripped a grenade from the bandolier over his chest and pulled the pin with his index finger. Toeing the car door open, he tossed the grenade inside and hurled the door closed again. Catching his katana, he turned and dove toward Corbin and Jackie, pinning them both against the wall and shielding them with his broad shoulders.

The car rocked sharply with the explosion.. Every single one of its windows – which had to be bullet proof and explained why no one was shooting from _inside_ the car – erupted with spider webs of cracks. Snake Eyes spun the moment the grenades detonated, pointing his uzi at the car. The door opposite them was still open, and he knew that at least two of the occupants of the car were alive. But someone had to have been caught in the blast. Someone had to be dead.

Jackie and Corbin plastered themselves against the wall, eyes wide and gasping, and all three of them waited for movement from the car.

Bloody Face was gone, obviously taking shelter somewhere, and Corbin knew that the shooter on the other side had been already out of the vehicle. Both of them, then, would have survived the detonation of the grenades. But what of the man in the back? And the driver? Corbin did not know.

"Holy shit," whispered Jackie, awestruck. "Did you _see_ that?"

Snake Eyes turned and freed two fingers from his katana to point down the street.

"Don't need to tell me twice," whispered Corbin, grabbing Jackie's hand.

"I had to tell you twice!"

The moment they took one step, the car's engine gunned and it leaped from the curb like something alive. Obviously the driver had survived.

"What the f-" Corbin trailed off as even Snake Eyes twitched with surprise.

Surprise, however, faded to abject alarm when the car spun around, regardless of oncoming traffic, and directed its front right at them.

Corbin's mouth dropped open and a tiny sound escaped her, "Uh… _run_."

"Agreed!"

Jackie yanked Corbin around hard and the two women went bolting down the street, the sound of Snake Eyes' gear rattling indicating that he was following them. The scream of tyres signalled that the car was, as well.

In two bounding steps Snake Eyes was past them, swinging out his arm to fire at the window of a restaurant. As Corbin and Jackie were about to rush past him, he stepped up onto the low wall at the front of the building and grabbed Jackie's arm in one hand and Corbin's jacket in the other, hauling them both off their feet with abysmal ease.

Corbin almost expired with terror when the car slashed by just shy of ripping her feet off of her legs.

Snake Eyes kept a grip on the both of them as they came down on the other side, ensuring that they didn't land in too much of the glass. Corbin's jacket protected her against most of it, but Jackie put a hand down on the shards, swearing vilely and coming away covered in blood.

Snake Eyes dropped down beside them, changing his grip to bring them both back to their feet and shove them toward the rear door of the restaurant.

Just as they ducked through the swinging doors, Corbin glanced over her shoulder. The car smashed right through the front of the restaurant and came straight for them, cleaning out tables and chairs in its haste to run them down. Corbin and Snake Eyes shoved themselves around the wall as the car ploughed right into the kitchen, narrowly missing Snake Eyes' leg.

"Holy fuck," whispered Corbin. "They're trying to kill me."

"You think?" snapped Jackie, who was standing by the rear doors of the kitchen. "This is not a time to play spectator!"

Corbin burst through the door, followed quickly by Jackie, Snake Eyes bringing up the rear and firing over his shoulder, katana held high. They found themselves in a back alley courtyard, with high walls on three sides and a chain link fence making up the final barrier, a dumpster resting against the opposite side.

Corbin and Jackie hit the fence at the same time, digging the toes of their boots through the holes and climbing up to the top. Corbin took off her jacket and tossed it over the exposed wires laying over the metal bar, heaving herself over it onto the dumpster.

"Who would have thought that childhoods spent running from the cops would come in handy?"

She landed on the dumpster and pulled Jackie over. Snatching her jacket, she and Jackie dropped down onto the ground, boots splashing in water that had probably been there since the city's founding.

"Wait, what about-"

Snake Eyes landed in a crouch behind them, neither of them having even heard him scale the fence. Corbin glanced to see what had taken him so long and saw that there was a grenade hanging from the handle of the door. He'd booby-trapped it in less than ten seconds.

Anyone perusing them would get a very big surprise. Or the next person that took out the garbage.

"Do you think-"

A black gloved hand wrapped in her shirt and she was yanked around as Snake Eyes dragged her away.

A dull explosion sounded behind them not five seconds later and Corbin shook off his grip, running faster.

**~}*{~**

"Snake. Wait. I have to stop."

The sound of slowing steps drew Snake Eyes to a stop and he turned to see Corbin doubling over, clutching her knees. Jackie came to a stop beside her, turning immediately to look over their shoulders, back the way they had come. Snake allowed them to take the moment to catch their breath. They had done admirably well for two women who were not physically fit, with one of them in three-inch heels.

"Fuck," exhaled Corbin sharply, rising to her feet. She wrapped both her arms behind her head and closed her eyes, a grimace on her face. "Just give me a second."

Jackie turned to look at her, "Take your time. No rush." As Corbin pulled a face at her, Jackie looked at Snake Eyes. "Holy motherfuckin' shit, by the way. You knocked bullets _out of the air_. He really is a ninja." The last was said to Corbin.

Snake Eyes turned to look at Jackie sharply, and then brought his visor around to focus on Corbin.

Corbin gave an unrepentant shrug. "You told me not to tell anyone. I didn't tell 'anyone'. I told Jackie. She's hardly 'anyone."

As Corbin turned away to cough again, Jackie nodded in agreement, "Girl talk is not included in verbal nondisclosure agreements. You should be more specific next time." The coughs turned deep-chested and Jackie smacked Corbin on the back with more force than was necessary, but it caused Corbin to take a deep breathe. "Breathe, damn it."

Snake Eyes exhaled into his mask and used the brief reprieve to flip up his wrist consol and tap out a message to Team Alpha.

+_We're on our way, but we're still__ two hours out, Snake Eyes,_+ said Duke in his ear.+_Keep them safe until then_.+

Had Snake Eyes been a man given to swearing, he would have done so quite admirably just then. As it was he simply replied the affirmative. Had the team been with him, they would have been able to capture the attackers. Had Snake Eyes not needed to protect Corbin, _he_ could have captured them.

As it was, all he could do was make sure that she survived. That thought drew him back to the fight, turning over the events in his mind. At first he had thought that they wanted to capture Corbin. That certainly appeared to be the way. But then they had opened fire, and almost driven a car into them.

Were they trying to capture her, or kill her?

Or perhaps the risk of her falling into the Joes hands meant that they would rather kill her than lose her?

But no matter what questions Snake Eyes had as to what the enemy was doing, the most prevalent one was _why_ they were doing it.

Why was Corbin so important to them?

"Okay." Snake Eyes looked back and saw Corbin drag in a huge breath, lifting her head and opening her chest. "We can go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. But if you pass out, I am not carrying your ass."

Corbin flipped her off as the three of them turned and broke into a fast walk, boots splashing through puddles of stagnant water that had likely existed since the city's founding. Had she retained the dancer physique, running so far wouldn't have bothered Corbin. Instead, she felt like she would bring up her spleen as she coughed into her elbow. Glancing over at Jackie, Corbin gestured to her chest, which was beginning to blossom with a lurid red stain. "Does it hurt?"

"I got scalding coffee on my chest," said Jackie. "I'm _burnt_. Of course it hurts."

"What about your hand?"

"Got all the glass out when you were partially asphyxiating. Should be fine."

"I'm sorry."

Jackie waved her good hand, dismissing her words, "Ah. Not your fault. Beats being dead. Which I almost was."

Corbin came to a sharp stop as Snake Eyes glanced back, no doubt surprised by the coldly blunt words. But Jackie was never a woman to soften a blow.

"I know…"

Jackie came to a stop as well, turning to look back and staring at Corbin. Corbin didn't avert her eyes. Jackie deserved better than that. But what could she say? What was there to say? Any words of apology would be painfully inadequate and telling Jackie that she knew, had known, from the beginning what danger she was putting her friends in would only make her actions seem even lower. To say that she didn't know would simply add insult to injury with such a blatant lie.

So why had she done it?

She lifted her eyes to Snake Eyes, whose visor was directed at her. He could insist that they keep moving, but he seemed content to stand there and wait for her to come to some kind of a decision. Just as Jackie seemed content to wait until Corbin had something to say.

_Everyone's conspiring against me_, she thought sourly.

"I made a mistake," she whispered.

Jackie threw her hands to the sky, "Hallelujah! Miracles _do_ happen!"

Corbin couldn't even muster the energy to tell her to shut up. Especially since she was right. She just dropped her gaze, brows drawing together. "I didn't realize… I didn't think…" She dissolved into a litany of profanities.

"If you're having a hard time deciphering that," said Jackie, obviously to Snake Eyes, "it loosely translates into, 'I have issues with relinquishing control'."

Corbin's expression went flat, "He doesn't need to know that."

"Of course he does. Otherwise he's just going to think you were a complete idiot for leaving a perfectly safe location for a perfectly dangerous one and putting everyone you know and love in danger for the sake of your pride."

Putting it that way made Corbin realise that she _had_ been an idiot. She closed her eyes and exhaled, shaking her head. "That's only partially the reason." Even with her eyes closed, Corbin could picture the droll look that Jackie turned on Snake Eyes.

"She also has trust issues."

"Would you cut it out?" Corbin's eyes snapping open to glare at Jackie, who gave her an arch stare. "If you were so in the know, why didn't you say something sooner?" Corbin regretted the words instantly, knowing that her frustration and fear was making her lash out, but Jackie shrugged them off easily.

"Corbin, twenty years of experience has told me that you don't listen to stuff you don't want to hear. I figured that you'd eventually realize it on your own." She tilted her head, "Was hoping that it would happen _before_ they shot at you, though. Which I would like to draw attention to. I thought they wanted you alive."

"So did I. Obviously the situation has changed."

"No, it hasn't," said Jackie, pointing at her. "You just had your eyes opened. You ready to quit dicking around now?"

"I was never dicking around!"

"Sure you were. More than that, you know it. Don't bullshit me."

Corbin drew a breath and, for a nanosecond, she hated Jackie. But the anger faded quickly and she knew that she was desperately trying to hide from something she could't hide from. She wasn't stupid, and she had had a long time to think about it. She knew she was holding on to a vain hope that there had been some sort of a clerical error somewhere, or that whoever it was had focused their attentions elsewhere. She knew that she was desperate to believe that they would not come after her and that her life was going to return to normal.

"I was riding on the hope that they wouldn't come after me again."

"You're stubborn, Corbin, but you're not stupid. You know better than that."

Corbin pursed her lips, feeling her eyes burn.

Jackie stepped toward her, either forgetting or ignoring Snake Eyes' presence. For his part, the ninja seemed content to fade into the background. "I saw you during lunch, Corbin. You were watching everyone that passed us by. You were watching every car that drove past. You think Theagan and Mac didn't see it? They did, and it put them on edge. It put _me_ on edge, damn it. I spent the whole time wondering if someone was going to come after you." When Corbin again struggled to come up with an answer, Jackie continued, "Can you live the rest of your life like this, Corbin?"

Corbin turned away from Jackie, away from her cold logic, "No…"

"I know you've already thought of everything. I know you've already realised all of this. So why… why are you being such a goddamn idiot? All you're doing is stuffing your fingers in your ears, closing your eyes and ignoring the truth. But you and I don't do that, Corbin. So why are you doing it now, when your _life_ is at stake?"

"I thought… I thought if I came back here…"

"You thought if you came back, you were proving to yourself that you remained in control of your life," said Jackie. "And now you're realizing that all you did was make a stupid, prideful, arrogant decision for no good reason at all. You're so scared of relinquishing control to the jarheads-" She broke off to turn to Snake Eyes, who had turned to her with that word, "No offence." Then she turned back to Corbin. "But you know you've already lost it, Corbin. You lost it the moment someone decided they either wanted to kill or kidnap you. You have one last chance to take control of your life, Corbin. Do you stay out here, _hoping_ that you'll be safe, or do you go with them and _know_ you'll be safe?"

"And just sit on their base, waiting," countered Corbin, snatching on the last argument that she had left for her. "Waiting for someone else to choose how my life goes. As my life passes me by."

"Is that any different to what you're doing now? Either you're waiting on their base, safe, for the situation to end, or you're waiting here, in danger, for them to come and get you. Or kill you."

"What if it takes years, Jackie? My life can't go on hold for years!"

"Your life will go on hold _forever_ if you _die_. And believe me, one or both of us might have died today if Snake Eyes here hadn't saved our asses. Which, by the way, thanks."

Corbin looked up to see Snake Eyes nod in response to her words, but he quickly looked back at Corbin. He was waiting for her decision, she realised, and that realisation tasted bitter. After it all, Snake Eyes was still waiting for her to choose. A decision she had spat on because she had refused to see anything but an option that did not exist. Jackie was right.

"God_damn_ it…" Corbin felt herself begin to crack and she covered her eyes with one hand, shoulders shaking, "I've worked so hard, Jackie. So _fucking hard_ to be able to live the way I want to… free from that… that crap. To be allowed to be the person I _want_ to be. To live my life… Why is this happening to me? It's not _fair_. It's not… it's not fair."

"No, it's not, but life is never fair. All we can do is take the punches and spit blood on its face. Make it fun while you're here." Jackie made a sound and looked back at Snake Eyes. "Oh. That reminds me. Not that I know why. Snake Eyes, I need your katana for a second…"

Corbin stared at her friend as Snake Eyes cocked his head. Jackie had almost died. She had been shot at, and had a car driven at her, and had probably been put in more danger in the last week than she had been in her entire life. All because of Corbin. But there she was, standing with a cunning smile on her face as she stared at Snake Eyes like nothing was wrong.

The thought that she had nearly gotten her friend killed, might yet get her killed, made Corbin's chest tighten with agony. More than that, though, was the fact that all of it had happened and Jackie was still standing there, being there for Corbin, whatever she needed. She hadn't run away, or told Corbin to stay away. Hell, she had wilfully walked into danger as she waited for Corbin to realize what she already knew.

"Jackie…"

Jackie glanced over and her smile dropped when she saw tears swimming in Corbin's eyes. "Don't you _dare_." She stepped back and pointed at her, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," Corbin whispered. "I'm just… I almost…"

"Stop it," snapped Jackie, pointing at her. "I'm not dead. I only told you this crap so you'd get it through your thick head. Do you have any idea how stubborn she is when it comes to her freedom?" The last was said to Snake Eyes. "My God, you'd have more success moving an ox with its feet mired in concrete."

Corbin put her hand to her head, sucking in a shaking breath, "Jackie…"

Jackie held up a hand, "You know what you have to do now, Corbin. Just do it. Don't go blubbering all over me."

"How can you be so casual about this?" asked Corbin, dropping her hand and staring incredulously at the other woman. "Aren't you at least a bit upset?"

Jackie's pencilled brows drew together sharply as she levelled a dark stare at Corbin, "_Excuse _me? You think you're the only one pissed off about this? You know me better than that. Believe me, I'm ticked. I'm beyond ticked. I want to hunt these bastards down myself and rip their throats out for what they're doing to us." Jackie sighed and put one hand on her hip, the other cradling her forehead. "For the first time in twenty years, I'm not going to be there to watch your back and I _hate_ that. I hate that I can't be there with you, be there for you. I hate that I'm not going to be able to go through this with you. But this is bigger than us. It's bigger than me. Bigger than I can handle."

Jackie sighed, closing her eyes with what might have been defeat, "Don't make me get all sentimental in front of the sexy ninja. It'll be embarrassing. You'll cry, I'll get sullen, he'll get all awkward and then the next Christmas dinner will be just uncomfortable for everyone."

Corbin laughed quietly, but sobered quickly. She had only considered what leaving would mean to herself. She had never thought how Jackie would be effected. Jackie, who had always been there for Corbin, pulling her out of bottomless pits and dragging her up off of cliffs.

"What am I going to do without you?" she whispered hoarsely.

Jackie shrugged, "Survive. You are the most important person in this world to me, Corbin. You can't die on me. You just can't."

"You say it like it's an ambition of mine."

Jackie gave her a droll stare, "Considering your stupid decisions over the last few days, Corbin, can you blame me?" Jackie shook her head and looked off to one side. "I know you hate losing control of your life, Corbin, but it's gone. Drop-kicked right out of the stadium. You're not proving you have control by staying out of the protection of the militant men. You're just proving your fear is greater than your common sense. You're just walking into suicide because of your stubborn pride. Don't let your pride get you killed, Corbin. Please. You're smarter than that. Stronger than that. I didn't drag your ass out of that hellhole just to watch you die now."

Corbin covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking. Jackie swore and stared at Snake Eyes. "Look away."

He turned his back without hesitating and listened to Jackie's boots approach Corbin and heard her embrace the woman.

Jackie's arms were uncomfortably tight, but Corbin had always enjoyed tight hugs. Whenever she let someone get close enough to do them, they always made her feel safe.

"Don't you dare make me cry," whispered Jackie hoarsely. "I haven't cried in twenty years. Not since my parents funeral. Don't you dare make me cry at yours."

Corbin wrapped her arms around Jackie in return, burying her face in her shoulder, "I won't. I'll go."

"Thank you."

In that moment, Corbin knew what the last few minutes had been about. What had been said without being said, because neither woman wanted to acknowledge the possibility.

It was a goodbye.

Corbin felt something inside of her break and she slammed her lids closed, covering her face with her hands. When she finally got control of herself again and lowered her arms, Jackie was staring back at her, a dark expression on her face, but with a hint of amusement around the edges.

The typical Jackie face.

Corbin also knew that her own face was much the same. Anyone might think that wearing a mask like that meant they didn't trust one another. But that wasn't true. No matter what mask either wore, they would know exactly what the other was really thinking and feeling.

_Goodbye_.

Jackie turned to Snake Eyes, who still had his back to them, "You get her killed, ninja, and I swear to God, the Devil and the Greek pantheon that I will hunt you down and butcher you all."

Snake Eyes glanced over his shoulder.

Corbin smiled until Jackie rounded on her with a vehemence that made her recoil, "And you. Enough with the stupid decisions. Go with them. Stay alive. Because if you don't, I will follow you to hell and kick your ass."

"Yes ma'am."

Jackie gestured like she was suddenly in charge, "Come on. The more we stand around chitchatting, the higher the chance that these guys will catch up to us. Let's go."

As the three of them took off at a brisk pace, Corbin wondered what Snake Eyes was intending to do. She knew that they were heading _away_ from her apartment, and toward the less populated, less developed regions of the city. She knew from experience that such places were good to hide from cops, but the cops were very different to terrorists.

A part of her realized that Snake Eyes may have been heading that way to prevent any innocents from becoming collateral damage in an inevitable confrontation. The knowledge was quite sobering.

"How did this happen, Jackie?" she asked, glancing sidelong at her friend. "The worst thing we've ever faced is drunken losers outside of clubs. When did that become international terrorists?"

Jackie shrugged, "Fate slung us a hell of a curveball, I agree." Her smile turned wicked, "You realize you're going to be on a military base, with no alcohol, no chocolate cake and no internet connection for God knows how long?"

Corbin's expression grew flat, "You just talked me _into_ going, Jackie."

"I know," Jackie chortled, putting her hand to her chest. "And no sex, either, Corbin. And no Saturday nights."

"I'm going to fucking hurt you."

"Come on, now," said Jackie. "You're going to be cooped up on a military base with Cutiebutt there. It's not so bad."

Corbin let out a quiet laugh that was part amusement and mostly hysteria. "Cutiebutt?"

"He has a _fine_ ass," Jackie lifted her hands with an unrepentant grin. "And we _are_ getting a good view of it."

Snake Eyes shook his head slightly. Though eavesdropping had not been had not been his intent, he had little choice in the matter, and the conversation had allowed him to learn more about Corbin.

Honestly, he was not surprised that Corbin had told Jackie everything. He had been disappointed, true, but now he realized that not telling Jackie was simply inconceivable to Corbin. He wondered what it was like to unequivocally trust and care for someone so deeply that excluding them from your life was simply not something that occurred to you.

Snake Eyes glanced over his shoulder at Jackie, inclining his chin slowly in a nod.

Jackie gave him a dark, almost malevolent smile, "Don't thank me. I talked Corbin into doing something she doesn't want to do, and you're willingly going to be cooped up with her for who knows how long. You're an _idiot_. Believe me, the Devil is laughing his ass off at you right now."

"Thanks," said Corbin sourly.

Snake Eyes was about to face forward again when movement caught his eye. Dropping his weight onto his front foot, he pivoted on his toe so abruptly that the girls shot past him. He heard boots scraping as they also came to a stop, but neither of them doubled back, thankfully. His visor zoomed in on an opening to a side alley exactly two hundred and thirty-six metres away, an opening they had only just passed. A targeting reticule appeared on the blue expanse and scanned every contour and line.

He was right. Movement. Someone or something stepped back around the corner the moment it realized it had been spotted.

The fury that the Hard Master would have felt in the face of Snake Eyes' allowing someone to get that close without being noticed was nothing compared to the anger that Snake Eyes felt toward himself. Had their conversation hidden any sound of pursuit? Had their conversation allowed their pursuers to catch up with them? Or were they simply so inhuman that even Snake Eyes' Arashikage senses were not enough to detect them?

Either way, it did not matter. They had been found.

**~}*{~**


	6. Ch 5: Collateral Damage

**Warning**: Frequent coarse language.

**Last Edit**: 26/12/10

**Chapter Five**

_Innocent Blood_

**~}*{~**

'… She opened, but to shut  
Excelled her power: the gates wide open stood…'

_Paradise Lost, _Book II, 883-884

**~}*{~**

Corbin hadn't known Snake Eyes for very long, nor did she know him very well, but she already understood that he was not a jumpy man. So when he dropped his hand to draw his sidearm, she knew it was for a reason.

He had seen something.

Corbin froze halfway through bolting, dragging Jackie to a halt when the other woman had been about to do the same.

"What?" hissed Jackie.

"We can't run," she said. "We don't know how many are behind us. We don't know how many are ahead of us."

"What if there are _none_ ahead of us? The longer we wait here, the longer they have to set up their trap."

"Snake?"

Snake Eyes drew a quiet breath, turning it over in his head. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder and jerked his head behind the women. They obeyed immediately, turning and running. He moved quickly behind them, knowing that he could catch up at any time. But he had hoped the sound of their fleeing steps…

Movement.

Gun.

Aiming.

Snake Eyes' instinct took over.

He brought up his own weapon and squeezed off two shots. The target's body spun, throwing off his aim, but he still managed to fire once. The bullet zipped past his head and he heard Corbin scream. Snake Eyes felt his stomach drop but he kept his focus long enough to squeeze off another shot. The man went down.

Snake Eyes turned to see Corbin clutching one hand to the side of her face. Snake Eyes grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away. Even as he saw the red line on her cheek begin to ooze blood, she was pulling away from him.

"I'm fine," she said, but he had felt her violent shaking before she removed herself from his grip. "I'm fine."

"We should run now," said Jackie sharply, backing away and staring down the alley.

Snake Eyes nodded to Corbin when she turned to him uncertainly, and the two women spun and fled down the alley once more, both of them moving at a decent speed. Fear gave you wings, so they said.

"Here." Jackie skidded to a stop beside a narrow corridor between two buildings, where either poor or very clever planning had left just enough room for people to progress in single file.

Jackie leaped in and Corbin pushed in after her, both of them moving as fast as possible between the buildings. Snake Eyes stopped at mouth and saw Jackie stop at the opposite entrance, Corbin squeezing in beside her as they check the alley mouth both ways. Good girls. He looked around behind him, and dove in behind them, bursting out of the other side right on their heels.

"Which way?" Jackie looked left, then right.

"We can't keep running," gasped Corbin, pressing a hand to her sternum. "We need a car or something."

"That means going out into public."

"Not if we find a quiet street."

"Are we really going to commit grand theft auto?" asked Jackie, spinning to look at Snake Eyes. But rather than look apprehensive, a gleam shone in her dark brown eyes.

Gunfire made the decision for them, pock marking the alley to their left. Snake shoved himself in front of the two women and flung one hand out behind him. They backed up, and then turned to run as Snake Eyes covered them with his uzi, spraying the rooftops with concentrated bursts to keep the two shooters in cover while they fled. It galled him that he had to run away from a threat when his Arashikagi training was screaming at him to fight. To slip into the shadows and launch an ambush on the pursuers. But doing so not only left Corbin and Jackie vulnerable, it also used them as bait.

He could only imagine what Corbin's reaction to that would be.

Besides, there was at least two totally unharmed enemies out there, and one could occupy Snake Eyes whilst the other went after Corbin and Jackie. It was a tactical and strategic nightmare for a ninja commando. His only recourse was to run if he wanted to fulfil his orders, and personal vow, not to let another innocent suffer at the hands of the enemy due to his shortcomings.

He would simply have to pay them back twofold when he could get his hands on them.

The next alley was littered with trash and a surly homeless man was sent scurrying away when Jackie slammed her boot on the ground between his legs when he wouldn't get into cover. Corbin was hard on Jackie's heels, but her unfit stature was begging to tell. Jackie was far more trim, but in no way more in shape. He had already seen the lines of exhaustion around her mouth and they were both breathing hard. But as they moved, he realized that Jackie was deliberately going point, placing herself between Corbin and any danger that might come from ahead. She would check corners first, wave Corbin through, find the best route.

Snake Eyes knew better than to think Corbin didn't also realise it.

"Snake!" Jackie called back, turning and stepping backwards when she saw where the next corner took them. "We're about to run out of alley!"

Snake Eyes, who had been moving just behind Corbin, pointed ahead with two fingers. Go for it.

Jackie nodded, but just before she spun her chin snapped up and she cried out in alarm, pointing above their heads. Corbin and Snake Eyes followed her hand. Corbin threw herself backwards when a shadow peeled off the side of a building and dove down for her. Snake Eyes stepped toward the nearby building without breaking his stride. He planted one boot on the wall, bent his knee and hurled himself off, tackling the man in mid-air. Forward momentum arrested and redirected sideways, the attacker was thrown into a pool of foul-smelling water. Snake Eyes landed on his feet, almost going down on one knee to catch himself, as the attacker got nimbly back up, closing the distance between himself and Snake Eyes in two long strides. Snake Eyes met him halfway and deflected a kick to his head.

"Corbin!"

"Snake!"

Snake Eyes spun and flicked his wrist, a shuriken floating through the air and ricocheting off the building between Corbin and the man that was rushing at her. Coming to a halt, Number 2 turned to look at Snake Eyes with a mask of frustration, allowing Snake Eyes to see that his shoulder and chest a mass of blood from gunshots that _should_ have killed him. Then he filled the man's face with his fist. Number 2 staggered back a step, regained his balance with an ease that shocked even Snake Eyes, and hurled his own punch. A controlled, perfectly aimed blow for a totally lucid man, let alone one that should have been seeing stars. Snake Eyes moved without thinking, catching the fist and twisting it around, immobilizing Number 2 momentarily as his arm contorted around. Rising onto his toes, Snake Eyes drove his boot backwards and sent Number 1 off his feet.

A disturbance in the air above Snake Eyes and a tingling between his shoulder blades had him stepping backwards, yanking Number 2 into the line of fire by his fist. Number 3, AKA Bloody Face, the man that Jackie had pummelled to shit on the street, landed on top of him and the two of them went into the concrete, Snake Eyes dancing nimbly out of the way. Spinning, Snake Eyes caught Number 1 in the temple with his boot, snapping his head sideways, and then set about hammering him with blows.

Number 1 should have at least three broken ribs and a cracked sternum and should have been spitting up blood, and he was now bleeding from a split in his temple from a blow that should have had him down and out for the next few days – especially since Snake Eyes' boots were steel-capped – but as Snake Eyes darted back to engage Number 2, he saw Number 1 getting up from the corner of his eye.

_Impossible_.

'_If it is happening, it is not impossible. Do not spend time contemplating what should not be happening, and accommodate it when it does_.'

Snake Eyes locked his jaw as he recalled the Soft Master's words, a flash of a memory trickling into his mind as the Soft Master tended to Snake Eyes wounds. Storm Shadow stood behind the Soft Master, and had just finished stating that Snake Eyes' persistence in the face of overwhelming should have been impossible.

Storm Shadow had taken the lesson to heart and proceeded to mercilessly trounce Snake Eyes as much as possible.

But Snake Eyes had always gotten up.

However, this was not Arashikage training. This was not the dojo. This was not one of the Hard Master's brutal lessons. These men were not Arashikage, but they were feeling near to the full force of Snake Eyes' physical brute strength.

_So how were they still getting up_? No. That didn't matter. What mattered was how to put them down permanently. He caught Number 3's fist and spun him off balance, catching him with a violent blow to the kidney that should have him pissing blood for a week. _Should_. But he now knew nothing was impossible with these men. No mistakes, this time. When he got these men down, he was going to put a round in their heads. If they got up from those, _then_ he'd be impressed.

Corbin stood immobilized, watching Snake Eyes fight three men at once like they were nothing. Several stunning blows would have one man reeling just in time for Snake to attack another, knocking him back and, at the same time, throwing kicks into the third. By the time the first recovered, Snake was on top of him, throwing punches with more force than humans should be able to muster. Even when the other two full-body tackled him and all three of them went sprawling, Snake was still in charge, still throwing elbows and fists and knees, and he was the first back onto his feet.

It had been easy to forget that Snake Eyes was considered the world's best ninja. A man who probably relished stealth, subtlety and quick, efficient combat over running like a frightened rabbit through back alleys. Corbin took a step back as she wondered how different this day would have been if Snake Eyes didn't have to protect Corbin. How different things would be if he could trust Corbin to look after herself, because she knew, and he knew, that she could not.

The thought settled bitterly on the back of Corbin's tongue.

Snake Eyes snapped a series of five or six stunning blows into one man and spun to Corbin, jerking his chin behind her. Blinking rapidly, she backed away from him, and then turned to run, following Jackie down the alley. When Corbin had stopped, Jackie had kept running, but upon looking back and seeing Corbin was not behind her, she had stopped at a corner and looked back, waiting for Corbin to get within earshot.

"Street ahead!" she said, pointing down the adjacent alley.

Corbin swore as her boot clipped something, half stumbling and forced to slow to right herself, and Jackie looked back, taking a step toward her. Corbin waved her hand, "Keep going!" She glanced back and saw Snake Eyes be physically lifted by two of the men, but a flick of his legs brought his centre of gravity down and he threw them _both_ instead.

"Damn…"

Corbin ducked around the corner behind Jackie and saw the street ahead, feeling relief douse her sweat-slicked body like a fall of refreshing water, easing her pain and pushing her harder and faster. It looked like the world must have looked to Orpheus as he lead Eurydice out of Hades; like the paradise Adam and Eve had been so willing to leave.

"There's one more, I think," said Jackie, still ahead of Corbin. Even _she_ was protecting her. That thought tasted worst of all, burning the back of her throat. Jackie, who shouldn't be involved at all. "The one caught in the car in the grenade would be fucked to hell, so -" Jackie skidded to a stop as, like it was summoned by her words, the heavily damaged car that had been the chariot of their woes, burst into the alley mouth like a demon, cutting them off from the sunlit street beyond.

Jackie and Corbin stared at the ruined mess of the car. The damage was the only reason they recognized it as the vehicle that had been driven at them what seem like an eternity ago. The front driver's door opened, sagging off the frame, a heavily bleeding, nearly ruined man fell out. One side of his body little more than open wounds, so grievous that Corbin was horrified that he managed to cling to life, let alone consciousness. Even she watched, part of his intestines spilled out from the ruptured abdomen and spilled to the ground beneath him.

Then he lifted his hand.

Corbin opened her mouth to scream at Jackie, who was turning away, when she saw what he was holding in his hand wasn't a gun.

It was smaller, cylindrical, and topped with a red button.

_FUCKING NO_! screamed Corbin silently as he thumbed the detonator just as Jackie turned back to look.

**~}*{~**

_God. Damn. It_

Snake Eyes was not a man prone to cursing, but he found himself chewing on bitter-tasting frustration as he struggled to maintain a modicum of superiority in the fight against the three men. Though they had not landed a blow on him, they seemed to be weathering his strikes with amazing ease. Superhuman ease. His kicks could shatter bone and collapse internal organs, and they were simply rolling back to their feet and returning to the fight. His punches could knock a man clean out for hours, and they simply turned with the blows and stepped back into him. His precise strikes at nerve bundles yielded little to no results. They were injured, battered, broken and bloody, and should, honestly, be bleeding to death or in a mild coma from the blows Snake Eyes had landed, but they seemed to register no pain at all…

Snake Eyes had just managed to get enough distance to give him the time to draw his katana when the sound of an explosion had him spinning to look behind him, eyes wide behind his visor. He staggered sharply with the momentary distraction, spinning to look the way the women had gone. The direction of the explosion.

_No_.

His katana was kicked from his hand and Snake Eyes grabbed the ankle of the man that had done so, driving his elbow into Number 2's knee. The man dropped with a grunt and Snake Eyes spun to catch Bloody Face AKA Number 3's fist. Releasing Number 2, he dragged Bloody Face into two sharp blows to his chest and one to his chin, lifted him onto his shoulder and threw him into Number 1. When Number 1 sidestepped, Snake Eyes slid over to him, dropping low, and tapped him sharply in the sternum, winding him and hopefully further damaging the broken bones, and then drove his fist up into his jaw, snapping his head back, trying to daze him.

It was no longer a matter of defeating them. He had to get them down long enough so he could get to Corbin and Jackie-Lynn. It was only when he spun to attack Number 2 Snake Eyes realised that he was gone, and he was just in time to see him vanish around the corner that Jackie and Corbin had gone.

Things were so much simpler when people were just trying to kill _him_.

Drawing his sidearm, Snake Eyes spun to find the two men he had thrown off, and saw one vanishing back the way they had come and another scaling the windows of a building like Spider Man. Rather than wasting time firing on them, Snake Eyes turned and broke into a dead run, catching up his katana as he did so.

**~}*{~**

Corbin never heard the explosion. Never saw it. One moment she was on her feet, the next she was punched backwards with a fist of heat and air. The sky spun into her vision. The buildings were washed with orange. Corbin landed on her shoulders and, for a moment, she was utterly senseless, lost to nothingness.

Awareness came back in a rush of air, dragged into painfully empty lungs. Her eyes were wide open, but it was only then that she began to see, her back smarting from the impact despite the fact that she was now on her front. There was a shrill ringing in her ears and everything beyond that was simply muffled noise, like she was hearing it through a speaker wrapped in cotton wool. Her body screamed with pain, her face feeling like she had spent a day on the beach without sunblock, her shoulders smarting from the impact, and a myriad of localized burning sensations that indicated she had not come away as unscathed as she thought. Buried an inch into the concrete, right in front of her nose, was a shattered bit of metal, the jagged edge raised to the sky and mocking her with how close she came to death.

_What… what happened_…?

It all came back in a rush.

Car.

Man.

Bomb.

_Jackie_.

Corbin coughed and spat out bloody saliva, hoping to God that she had merely bit something in her mouth and didn't have internal haemorrhaging as she clawed herself to her hands and knees. The world swayed dramatically and Corbin nearly pitched back onto her face, but somehow managed to retain what she had gained.

Corbin looked around, unaware of the tears streaming down from her burning eyes as she examined the damage around her, her eyes finding a body sprawled off to one side, at the base of the wall to her left. Which had previously been to her right.

Jackie…

Corbin crawled to Jackie, grabbing her and gently rolling her onto her back. What she saw made her suck in a sharp breath of astonishment. One side of her face was a mass of blood, her hair stuck to it, and Corbin couldn't tell if it was from the explosion or hitting her head. Her left shoulder and arm were burned where she had instinctively shielded herself from the blast, but she had not been as lucky with Cobin when it came to debris. Two metal shards sprouted from her torso like macabre flowers, one high on the right side of her chest and one low on her stomach. There was a bloody, ragged wound in her side and Corbin had no doubt that if Jackie had not chosen to wear a steel-boned corset that day, she would be dead. The metal shards had lodged in the metal of the bones and the bones had protected her from total evisceration.

"Jackie…" Cobin cupped Jackie's face. "Oh, sweet fucking Jesus, Jackie…"

To her infinite surprise – and horror – Jackie's lashes fluttered and lifted, slowly focusing on Corbin's face. Then they focused on something over her shoulder and widened with horror. Corbin spun sharply in time to catch a fist across her face. This time there was nothing held back, and Corbin went spinning away, collapsing beside Jackie.

Something grabbed Corbin's jacket and hauled her to her feet. The motion made her retch as her centre of gravity was thrown violently, her head still swimming from the blow. Corbin looked up, and saw an unfamiliar face. For a dazed moment she thought it was a good Samaritan come to her aid. Until she saw the blood on his chest and shoulder, from what might have been bullet wounds.

The man Snake Eyes had shot.

Corbin tensed to fight, but man number 2 slapped her hard. Obviously he wasn't about to give her the chance to fight back like Bloody Face had. He ripped Corbin to her feet, but her boots got caught up in one another and she was sent sprawling. Quickly she got to her knees, pushing her toes under her, just as a hand grabbed her bad wrist. When Number 2 wrenched it around, agony speared up Corbin's arm. Using it to fuel her rage, she twisted her wrist around and yanked him forward, reaching up with her hand and burying her nails in his throat, clenching her fingers around his trachea. Tensing her arm, she yanked backwards as he choked, releasing his neck to drive her fist into his sternum. Shoving to her feet, she pushed him back and off of her, dragging up one leg and kicking him in the sternum again. But he caught her leg before it could land and yanked her forward, off balance. Corbin went down hard on one knee, crying out in pain as it was ripped open from the impact on the rough asphalt that served as the floor of the alley. Then she was lifted by her leg and sent hurtling into a wall, where she landed at the base in a crumpled heap, head spinning.

She pushed herself up, blood trickling from her split lip, to see Number 2 cough and get his footing again, grabbing her tie and the front of her shirt and yanking her up off the ground.

"Enough," he hissed.

Corbin spat blood in his face. With a snarl, Number 2 drew back his fist to punch her, but something to his side and out of Corbin's vision caught his attention. He spun her with blurring speed and ducked down, taking shelter behind her body, and Corbin found herself staring down the barrel of Snake Eyes' sidearm.

The silence that followed was eerie, broken only by Corbin's gasping sobs and heavy breathing. Then came a guttural feminine cry of rage and Number 2 jerked, spinning to look behind him. A gun went off and Corbin was jerked backwards as Number 2 spun away. She wrenched free, losing her jacket in the process, but managed to keep her feet. Snake Eyes raced forward to put another round in Number 2's head. Corbin paid him no heed after registering the bloody bit of metal sprouting from the back of Wounded's calf. Because she knew where the metal had come from.

Sure enough, Jackie collapsed onto her side, pressing her hands to the bleeding wound in her stomach. Corbin sank down onto her good knee, tears already beginning to stream down her face as she replaced Jackie's hands with her own. Snake Eyes dropped to his knees on Jackie's other side and began fiddling with his belt, pulling out gauze.

Every other concern faded from Corbin's mind as she stared down at her best friend. Tears blurring her vision, she looked up at Snake. "Please," she sobbed as Jackie went into spasms of pain. "Don't let her die, Snake. I'll do anything. I'll go back to the base. I'll never leave. Please…"

Snake Eyes batted her hands away without acknowledging her words, making Corbin sit Jackie up so he could bind her wounds securely. He didn't bother removing the metal shard, instead simply securing it so it didn't move too much. As he worked Jackie moaned and whimpered into Corbin's shoulder.

Corbin looked to the muggy sky and whispered, "Please… please… please…"

Jackie slowly turned her head and looked at Snake Eyes. She reached out and grabbed his wrist with a surprisingly strong grip, squeezing and stopping him.

"Go_._" Blood spilled over her lower lip as she spoke, confirming his fears of the severity of her internal bleeding.

Snake Eyes tried to shake his hand free to keep working, but Jackie refused to let go.

"_Run_." This time she rasped the words, drawing Corbin's gaze.

"Jack…"

Jackie pushed ineffectively at Corbin, and then looked at Snake Eyes, frustration in her eyes. "_Go. Go_."

Snake Eyes knew what Jackie was thinking. The driver was accounted for, if his burning torso was any indication off to one side. Number 2 was also disinclined to get up with half of his brain spread out on the ground behind him. But there were still the two men that had escaped, no doubt regrouping for a second attack. They seemed inexhaustible, and Snake Eyes knew that he was not, and Corbin most defiantly was not. She was trembling, gasping for breath, and bleeding from a myriad of wounds, both small and not-so-small. She might have a concussion, and her knee would definitely slow her up.

More than that, in a country with heightened awareness post 9/11, an explosion in New York City meant that half of the damn country was about to come down on their heads.

But the greatest factor was that Snake Eyes knew that though he could tend to his own wounds, and Corbin's wounds were not serious, Jackie needed immediate surgery to save her life. Surgery he could not provide and, if they were close, would be dangerous to perform.

As if hearing his thoughts, Hawk's voice crackled into distorted life in his ear, +_Nothing you can do, Snake. Emergency services are on their way. Get out of there._+

Snake Eyes raged silently, but gave no external indication of his inner storm. To save Corbin and give Jackie the best fighting chance, he would have to do the unthinkable. He could only pray Corbin would forgive him, some day. He didn't count on it, though.

Snake Eyes' gaze tracked to Jackie, who was fighting against unconsciousness. Her lips moved, forming the word, '_Please_.'

Snake Eyes finished bandaging her and then butterfly-clipped the linen. Gently, he scooped Jackie off the grimy ground and got to his feet. Corbin followed him, steadying herself and obviously ready to go anywhere. Turning, Snake Eyes leaped over the ruined remains of the car and out onto the open street. There were a few people, no doubt drawn from their locations by the explosion. He could only hope one of them was a good person, and would help a bleeding, dying woman. Kneeling down, Snake Eyes carefully put Jackie down on the ground.

She grabbed his combat webbing with that same surprising strength as more blood trickled over her cheeks. "Take care of her for me…" Then she sagged back, eyes fluttering closed, as she finally gave in to unconsciousness.

Snake Eyes silently vowed to her that he would do so as he rose to his feet.

Corbin came up behind him, "Snake Eyes, what-"

Snake Eyes turned sharply and struck Corbin in the neck with two fingers. Instantly her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed backwards. Catching her over his shoulder, Snake Eyes spun and raced away. He could only pray that Corbin would understand.

**~}*{~**

Corbin opened her eyes to blue skies peeking through the darkened clouds. Somewhere nearby a bird chirped and she felt something soft under her body. For a moment, Corbin entertained the idea that everything that had proceeded that moment had been some absurd dream, but when she shifted, agony speared from her knee and she looked down to see a neat bandaged swathing the joint. With a muted groan, she clutched her neck, where she felt a sharp ache like a bruise toward the back.

Movement to one side drew her attention and she looked over to see Snake Eyes kneel down beside her. He tucked an arm under her and brought up a small bottle of amber fluid. She didn't bother to protest, clutching at it as she realized how dry her mouth was suddenly. Drinking slowly from it as he tipped it in frustrating increments, she drained the contents of what she realized was a bottle of iced tea with probably four sugar packets dumped into it.

_Shock_, her mind whispered. _He's fighting the effects of shock_. Corbin turned and buried her face in his shoulder as her body greedily absorbed the sugar that had flooded her stomach, drenching her adrenaline-charged, exhausted body with sucrosy goodness.

_Works for me_. If she was focusing on that, she wasn't thinking of anything else. She wasn't thinking of… of…

_Jackie_.

The empty bottle disappeared and another one appeared. Snake Eyes pressed his thumb to the lid and seemed about to remove it when Corbin grabbed his wrist and stopped him. She squeezed until the device around his wrist bit into her skin. She hoped that it was causing him at least a bit of discomfort, and wished she had a way of causing him more.

"What… what have you done?" she whispered brokenly, rage and grief warring for supremacy in her mind, wrapping around her throat like fingers, cutting off her air. "What have you done? You left… you left her behind, Snake!"

Snake Eyes did nothing, just staring down at Corbin.

"You left her behind," she repeated, as if daring him to deny it. "You left her behind to _die_, Snake! You left her behind!" She shoved his hand away and sat up, trembling with anger. Tears burned her eyes, lodged in her throat, but she forced the words out. "You… You… fucking _asshole_." Her lower lip shook and she fought to still it through sheer will. She would _not_ cry in front of Snake Eyes.

He slowly sat back on his heels, his shoulders rising and falling with a single, deep breath. Or was it a sigh? For some reason, that enraged Corbin further – perhaps, she would later reflect, it was more like she was looking for an excuse – and she snapped. Her hand snapped out and struck an open-palmed blow across Snake Eyes' face. His head snapped to the side and he rocked back slightly, but did not lose her balance. In a convulsive moment, Corbin grabbed Snake Eyes' combat webbing and hauled him over the seat toward her. She had no doubt that the only reason she had been able to even touch him was because he let her. No way in hell could she take him by surprise.

That galled her all the more. So fucking perfect. So fucking elite. Well if he was so fucking awesome, why hadn't he stopped Jackie from being hurt? And why had he left her behind?

He had _left Jackie to die_!

Corbin let out an inarticulate cry and hauled back, coiling her hand into a fist, prepared to slug Snake Eyes' visor into the back of his head. Snake Eyes didn't stop it. He didn't struggle. He just sat there and waited for the blow to come. If he had resisted, Corbin might have punched him, but his acquiescence made her freeze. In that moment, she got a snapshot of what his body language was telling her.

If it makes you feel better, go ahead.

Something told her that Snake Eyes had taken far worse licks than a punch from an out-of-shape young woman, and was more than willing to take one to help her deal with her ineffective rage. But that knowledge only deflated Corbin. She unfurled her hand attempted to shove him away from her, but only served to push herself back. Snake Eyes let her, seemingly realising that she needed space. Corbin lifted her hands to cover her face, but that motion brought her bloody fingers into her vision, and she let out an explosive sob as she recalled where the blood had come from. She turned her hands over and stared at her palms, which blurred as tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks.

_If Jackie dies, it's all your fault. Not Snake's. Not the terrorists'. Yours. Because of your planet-sized ego and even bigger issues. You fucking moron_. She wrapped her arms around her head as if she could block out the voice that was coming from inside her mind. Condemnation from the depths of her soul.

"Oh _God_." She buried her head in her knees, welcoming the pain it brought her, and fisted her hands in her hair. "What have I done? What… what the fuck have I done? Jackie… _I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry_…" Her words ended in an inarticulate cry of anguish and she pulled on her hair. The only person Corbin had left. The only person that had stuck it out with Corbin her entire life. And Corbin may have gotten her killed.

A hand grabbed her good wrist, trying to pry her fingers loose, and Corbin shoved Snake Eyes away. He reached for her again and she lashed out, smacking his chest with one fist, then his shoulder with another. He tugged at her and she pulled free, hitting him again with no effort, just with anger, with grief, with pain. Tears streamed down her face as she shoved ineffectively at his shoulders, just raging uselessly at the very person she had no right to. She braced her hands against his shoulders and bowed her head as she realised what she had done. As she realised what her stupidity had cost her.

Even if Jackie didn't die from the wounds she had sustained, she would come close, and that was entirely Corbin's fault. It was totally, completely and utterly her fault. More than that – to her supreme disgust – she knew that she should be relieved that it hadn't been worse; it could have been Theagan caught in the blast, and lost her baby because of it. The blast could have been in a public location, claiming many lives.

_Her fault_.

"Why?" she whispered brokenly. "Why…? Why didn't… why didn't you…" _Save her? Stop me from coming back? Kill all of the terrorists in one go? What? What should he have done differently? What _could_ have done differently?_ Corbin lifted her head as the answer came to her in a wash of pain. "Why didn't you just let me die? Why did you have to save me? Why couldn't you have just _let me die_?"

Snake Eyes' fingers slackened briefly, and she wondered for a moment if she had shocked him. Then he grabbed her elbows, yanked her forward and crushed her against his chest. For a time, Corbin just lay against him, crying against his shoulder, as he rubbed her back with one hand. For some reason, it was so human, so normal, that Corbin simply broke down again, burrowing against him like a child hiding.

"Why didn't you let me die?" she sobbed again. "She'd be okay if you just let me die. None of this would have happened if I had just died. Why? Why did you save me?"

Snake Eyes wrapped his arms around Corbin more tightly, closing his eyes behind his visor as her words wrenched at something deep inside of him. Giving comfort was not something that came naturally to him; among the Arashikage, there was no time for comfort, no time for weakness. There had only been room for strength, endurance and determination. He had spent his entire life among the clan trying to be the best that he could be, and he had no use for tears. But had had chosen the life of the Arashikage. Chosen the life that the Hard Master had taught him. Corbin had chosen nothing about this life, had not chosen to get herself involved in whatever it was she was involved in.

In truth, he could not blame her for trying to hold on to her own life, especially if she had fought as hard for it as it seemed she had. But she had realised too late that she couldn't hold on to it. That it was gone for her. Jackie-Lynn Matthews might die because she realised too late, and Snake Eyes knew that there was no greater punishment that could be inflicted upon Corbin than that. Nor would there be any greater reproach than what she was inflicting on herself. He had hoped that, by allowing her to hit him, he could prevent exactly what was happening.

She was turning her hatred in on herself.

Corbin abruptly pushed away from him, making him look down her. She had one arm braced against his chest and he lowered his arms, watching her face. She had her other hand splayed over her face, her wide eyes staring through her fingers as she sucked in deep breaths. Lifting her head, desperate for something to focus on, she looked around to see where they were. She was in someone's yard, hidden from the street by a copse of trees and a low wall tipped by corrugated iron spikes. Seemed to be a trend in that part of the city. Swallowing, she tried to climb to her feet.

Snake Eyes stopped her and offered her the second bottle of iced tea. It wasn't like the Lipton iced tea, peach flavour, that was her favourite, but it _was_ pear and peach, so that was close enough. She didn't know the makers.

Taking the bottle, she made sure to drink it all, scared by how badly the fluid inside sloshed around with her shaking. Then they simply sat there for a time. Snake Eyes still would not let her rise until her shaking had subsided, and she saw he had two more bottles and a bag of… something to give her more sugar if need be. She held her hand out for the bag and Snake Eyes handed it over. Two sugar frosted donuts. Warm. _How the hell did he get these_? She tried to imagine him walking into a convenience store and purchasing the items. The idea didn't fit, like two opposing pieces from two puzzle sets. She looked at her bloody hands and folded the top of the bag back over. Maybe… maybe later.

She'd never be able to look at donuts again and not think of her bloody hands, and where the blood had come from.

The clouds parted above them and bathed Corbin in warmth, heating her black clothing quickly. It seemed so odd for it to be sunlight all of a sudden. Corbin looked at Snake Eyes and saw what might have been a pair of eyes through the visor, penetrated by the light of the sun. Then his head angled slightly and she saw only the lined expanse of glass… plastic?... again. Corbin leant back against his arm and closed her eyes, wanting to go to sleep.

Snake Eyes shook her gently and she made a show of opening her eyes and sitting up. No. Don't go to sleep. But she had had enough of just sitting there.

"We…" She coughed and cleared her throat when her voice broke. "We… have to keep moving." But there was a defeated note to her voice, and she didn't bother trying to hide it. It told in every line of her body. She climbed to her feet, feeling a fine tremble in her body as shock warred with the sugar that had saved her. "Come on. We should go. We can get out of the city. Meet Duke and the others. No one else… has to be hurt." _Because of me_ were the unspoken words.

The creak of hinges drew her attention and she watched Snake Eyes walk out of the yard and into the street. Corbin hugged the donut bag and followed him. He removed a small, black rectangle from his belt and pressed a button, a silver prong bursting from the end. Sliding it into the lock, he flicked his wrist from side to side until the vehicle unlocked.

Corbin couldn't even muster up a sarcastic comment as she closed the gate behind her. The vehicle he had chosen was powerful, a black 4WD, with a metal bulbar on the front. It would have speed, but more than that, if they were caught, it had enough power to total any other vehicle that came its way and leave the occupants relatively intact, provided they didn't take a direct hit to a doors, which were a full two and a half feet off the ground. This person had to be the only damn person in New York City with that kind of a car, and it would be just like Snake Eyes to find them. The ninja master in question opened the door for her and Corbin grabbed the edge, preparing to hall herself up, when a screech of tyres made them both turn to the rear of the street.

"_Fuck._" Galvanizing strength. Adrenaline. An idea born of desperation and given wings by fear.

Corbin reached back and grabbed the object from Snake, throwing herself into the driver's seat. "Get in! I'm driving!" With no time to circle to the driver's side, let alone argue, Snake Eyes scrambled up behind Corbin as she slammed the skeleton key into the ignition and turned on the car. The donut bag bounced on the back seat. The two remaining iced tea bottles went after it.

Dropping the park brake, Corbin threw the car into gear, wrenched the wheel around and floored it. Rather than shooting forward, it spun instantly to the side, wheels kicking up smoke, so when the oncoming vehicle struck the truck, it only served to clip the rear and push them the rest of the way around. Corbin, however, was not content with that and continued to bring the car around until they had turned a full 360 degrees. She didn't seem to mind that she elbowed other cars out of the way as she did so. The other car skidded and brought around its nose, but Corbin slammed the car into a higher gear and floored it. Both Snake Eyes and the driver of the other car realized what she was doing but too late for either of them to stop it. The massive bulbar at the front of the vehicle struck the side of the smaller car and forced it sideways along the road like it was caught on the horns of a bull. Appropriately, perhaps. They rocketed together into oncoming traffic, somehow, amazingly, missing all of the cars going in opposite directions. Corbin kept her foot on the accelerator as the car mounted a curb, broke through a low wall and smashed into the solid front of an apartment building.

Snake Eyes turned to stare at Corbin, unable to believe what had just happened. She had gone from a crying, grief-stricken woman to a homicidal maniac in about the same amount of time it took for her to shift the gears of the car. That was some sugar rush…

Corbin backed up the truck as cars skidded to a stop all around, put it back into gear and floored it again. The ensuing impact served to drive the car deeper into the building. Once more she backed up, this time further, and accelerated harder, caving in the whole side of the car with the truck's bulbar. But the two men inside managed to scramble out before they were turned into a sticky paste.

"Damn," was all Corbin said. Twisting in her seat, Corbin threw the car into reverse and hauled ass backwards to the street. She spun the wheel with the flat of her hand, swinging the truck's nose around. The result was to present them directly into oncoming traffic, into which she immediately accelerated.

Snake Eyes flattened himself against his seat and seriously contemplated his seatbelt. Not that it would help at those speeds…

Corbin kept the wheel steady as cars hurled themselves out of her way, pelting down the wrong side of the road. She seemed to expect all of the other cars to move for her and, amazingly enough, they did. The only time Corbin moved the wheel was when she swerved into another lane, ducking beside a massive semi that rocked in the opposite direction. Then Corbin wrenched the wheel around and slid through a gap in the barriers, finally bringing the vehicle onto the right side of the road. She brushed so close to another car that Snake Eyes could see the woman inside screaming frantically, tossing her mobile phone in the air with alarm. Corbin pushed the car into the highest gear as she pulled smoothly onto a highway, until Snake Eyes felt like they were practically flying. Quietly, he vowed never, ever to let Corbin drive again. The woman was a goddamn maniac.

The whole time, however, she had been silent, concentrating on what she was doing. She might have been a maniac, but she was a _skilled_ maniac.

He was still never letting he drive again.

They dropped just below the speed limit as they headed toward the outer areas of New York, and Corbin glanced over to him. "They'll find another car soon enough," she said. "And they'll find us again. You know they will." She looked ahead and narrowed her eyes, knuckles turning white on the wheel. "I'm sick of fucking running, Snake."

Snake Eyes glanced at her. She was terrified, bloody, wounded, distraught and hovering on the brink of what he was sure was a total psychological and emotional collapse, but she still wanted to fight back. Not for the first time Snake Eyes wondered how deeply ingrained the will to fight was in this woman. It went beyond mere instinct. On the heels of that, he wondered what had embedded it in the first place.

Corbin accelerated through a yellow light just as it turned red. "I'm guessing the plan was to hide until Duke and the others get here – because I'm also guessing they're not here – and then scarper, right?" She didn't bother looking at Snake Eyes. It wasn't really a question.

Snake Eyes was just glad she wasn't taking her eyes off the road.

Corbin lapsed into thought for a time. "Snake Eyes," she said finally, drawing his attention. "If it wasn't for me, would you already have taken down those guys?" As she expected, he didn't respond, but for once his lack of an answer was answer enough. Narrowing her eyes, Corbin continued, "Protecting me and Jackie limited you, didn't it." Again, she didn't really voice it as a question. "We were burdens."

Snake Eyes didn't try and deny it. He didn't try and indicate otherwise in any way. Corbin was grateful. He knew better than to try and insult her intelligence by doing so. She could only imagine how pissed he was that he had to run from them. Pissed that he had failed to protect Jackie. Failed to follow his orders.

_You are so goddamn selfish, McQuinn_, she thought derisively, looking back at the road. She passed a car without indicating as she took a breath, thinking back on Jackie's words. About not dying for pride. So what was worth dying for? She glanced at Snake Eyes, "How far are Duke and the others from us?"

Snake Eyes cocked his head, thinking, then flashed six fingers and made an 'O' with one fist.

"Sixty minutes?" When he nodded, she looked forward again and gave a nod herself. "Plenty of time." Looking back at Snake, she could almost feel his eyes narrow behind his visor. "I know it's my fault, what happened, all of this. But I'm going to make them fucking pay for it." She looked at him, eyes narrowed with hard resolve. "No more running, Snake Eyes. And I don't want to catch them. I want to _kill_ them."

Snake Eyes looked ahead in silence, and it was Corbin's turn to watch him as he obviously warred with the decision.

"I know your orders are to keep me safe," she said. "But we tried running. They found us." She swallowed hard as she remembered what they did to Jackie. "Best defence is a good offence, right?" When he still didn't answer, she added, "They'll find us again before Duke and the others get here. You know they will. No matter what we do, they'll find us. So let's use that to our advantage."

Snake Eyes nodded slowly, glancing at her. Almost in a 'What do you suggest?' kid of way.

"I-" Corbin broke off as automatic gunfire sprayed the rear window. "How the _fuck_ do they do it?" she cried, looking over her shoulder. "Snake. Shoot those pricks."

Snake Eyes climbed out of the passenger seat and into the back, seeing exactly how they had caught up. The truck was powerful, but it didn't have the speed to match the sleek, silver thing that was rocketing up the road behind them. If Corbin was flying down the road, this thing seemed to simply defy gravity itself as it went at speeds that had Snake Eyes expecting the thing was about to break the sound barrier and go supersonic.

"Next time, we steal a car like that!" Corbin shouted over her shoulder as she dropped gears, then the park brake, snapping the truck around into such a sharp turn that they rocked up onto two wheels.

Snake Eyes threw himself onto the driver's side of the car, adding his weight and bringing the truck back down. The silver car simply shot right past them, braking so sharply that the front came down far enough to kick up sparks.

Snake Eyes brought up one of his uzis and, the moment the car came into view, took aim. But he couldn't fire with so many other cars around, in such a populated location. Too much of a risk he wouldn't hit the car. Hell, his armour-piercing rounds in his sidearm meant that anything that hit the car – which would definitely not be bullet proof or made of anything hardy to be able to go at those speeds – would likely blow straight through it, ricocheting inside and going in any direction.

Snake Eyes leaned between the front seats and pointed at his uzi, then waved his finger in the air.

"Alright," Corbin said, seeing the motion out of the corner of her eye and understanding instantly. "That car will catch up with us long before we leave the city. But I know where we can go." She looked in the rearview mirror to see the silver car coming up hard and fast. "But we have to survive long enough to get there, Snake!"

Snake Eyes braced his arms on the front seats and snapped a kick into the rear window, already damaged by the gunfire. Two more solid kicks had it popping from its moorings and bouncing onto the road, clearing a firing range for him. As the silver car swerved to miss it, a handful of shuriken floated from the rear of the car and buried themselves in the driver's side, barely missing the wheel. The car swerved sharply to the side to avoid the next set of throwing stars, and the only one that hit lodged itself in the front windshield. Snake Eyes followed it with a throwing knife hitting dead on and forcing it through the window. He wasn't sure if he hit anything beyond it, but unless the driver pulled some fantastic move, he definitely clipped him. The tinted windows of the car made it impossible to see inside.

Then both the driver and passenger-side windows came down and two guns popped out.

Snake Eyes hammered the back of Corbin's seat to let her know, and she swerved to the right as gunfire ripped through the truck. Snake Eyes threw himself down in the back seat and Corbin dropped herself over the steering wheel. Realizing that a stray bullet might get her in the back of the head, Snake Eyes quickly ripped off his combat vest and unzipped the lightweight flak vest beneath. He then dropped it over the back of the seat and stabbed two kunai in it to keep it in place.

"Thanks," she said over her shoulder. "We're coming up on a long stretch here, Snake. Narrow. Very little room to move. But it's all factory and development. You should be able to shoot."

Exactly what he wanted to hear. Snake Eyes brought up both uzis as Corbin turned the gentle corner onto the gauntlet. The moment the car came into view behind them, he opened fire. It instantly ducked back and forth, and Corbin kept steady as Snake Eyes peppered the front of the car with fire.

"Fuck it. This will have to do. Snake! Brace!"

He grabbed the passenger seat as she shifted down and hit the brakes, spinning the car around and accelerating. As the chasing car once again overshot due to its speed, Corbin burst through a chain link fence and into an empty lot, the truck's all wheel drive coping well with the change of terrain. She hauled the truck to the side and smashed through a door of what might have once been a warehouse but was now simply an abandoned building. The side of the truck scraped the concrete wall, taking out the side view mirror on the passenger side, and Corbin swung the truck around, heading for an opposite door.

"Pray that there is nothing on the other side of this!" she shouted over her shoulder just as they shot through it.

Bringing the wheel around, Corbin barely missed smashing into a rusted cargo crate. As it was, she bumped lightly against it, ripping the metal on the side of the car, reduced to the consistency of butter at such speeds. Corbin spun the wheel the other way and disappeared into the maze of cargo crates, shifting down until the truck's engine was quieter. She continued driving until Snake Eyes patted her shoulder and pointed at an empty cargo crate, the doors sitting open. Corbin brought the car around in a wide arc and drove right inside.

Long after they had come to a stop, they simply sat, both of them apparently stunned at what had just happened.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said Corbin, looking back at Snake.

He just shook his head as he climbed out the rear window. Corbin followed after him, and he helped her down. Stepping back, he made a 'stay' motion with his hand and went to check the front of the cargo crate. He couldn't see anything, but he had little doubt that they would find them eventually. Turning, he made another 'stay' gesture, and backed out of the cargo crate.

Corbin shot towards him. "You are not leaving me here!"

Snake Eyes patted the air, pointed at himself, and then off to one side, then at himself, then back to her.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I trust that you'll kill them, but I am not waiting here in the dark for you to come back.

Snake Eyes wanted to be frustrated, but he saw the quiet terror in Corbin's eyes and understood. She was afraid that, somehow, he would be bested, and she would be left alone to rot in the cargo crate. Snake Eyes drew his sidearm. He fitted her hand around the stock and clicked the safety on and off… only to stop as she pulled away, checked the clip, pulled back the slide and slipped the safety onto 'automatic'.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

"This doesn't make me feel much better, Snake… So you'd better damn well get your ass back here ASAP…"

Snake Eyes nodded and backed away from her. Corbin just stood there, gun aimed at the ground, watching him. Without having to worry about her, she knew he would be a more effective fighter. She knew that he would be able to take down the men after them. But still…

He held up four fingers, and then five.

"Forty-five minutes?" It was going to be an eternity.

Snake Eyes reached for one door and eased it closed, grabbing the other when he was halfway and pushing them both closed. Just before they came together, Snake Eyes stared at her, and she could hear his unspoken vow to come back for her. He looked so ethereal with the slash of light around him, contrasting so sharply with his black-clad form. Contrasting so sharply with the shadows all around him. Then he closed the doors. Corbin closed her eyes a she was swallowed by total darkness. She sank to her knees as she heard the locks slide into place.

"Hurry, Duke," she whispered, trembling as tears eased down her cheeks. "Please hurry..."

**~}*{~**

_Thank you for reading the newest chapter of _Paradise Lost_. If you have time, please leave a review._

_Anne_


	7. Ch 6: Shards of Innocence

**Warning**: Coarse language, violence.

**Note**: Chapter has undergone editing and revision.

**Last edit**: 12/10/11

**Chapter Six**

_Collateral Damage_

**~}*{~**

'… Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat  
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe,  
That all was lost_._'

_Paradise Lost_, Book IX, 783-785

**~}*{~**

Snake Eyes crouched atop a cargo crate and watched the man below drag in deep lungfulls of air, his eyes narrowed behind his visor. Whilst not physically impossible for a human, Snake Eyes was aware that it took a certain level of familiarity with one's surroundings to be able to smell something out of place, and usually what was scented was particularly pungent. Local guerrillas, militia and insurgents could sometimes smell foreign soldiers who would always have a distinct body odour after days without showers and patrolling with heavy gear. Eating different foods produced different body smells, as well. A lifetime of fast foods and western dishes contrasted sharply to a diet of local flora and fauna. But those insurgents grew up in their locale and smelling something foreign would have been relatively easy, like the scent of cooking meat when you'd lived your life in a bakery.

The Arashikage themselves trained their senses to the very extent of human limit. Snake Eyes could differentiate between the individual scents of his teammates, regardless of what condition they were in. He could pick up a scent and recognize it if he smelled it again on a trail.

But if the man below was following Corbin's scent, it was a scent that could only have escaped through the broken rear window of the vehicle. Was it her smell? Or her blood?

And was it worth the risk to Cobin to take them in alive? Or kill them and keep her safe?

Snake Eyes crouched and leaped over the twelve foot gap between the cargo crates, landing soundlessly on the opposite one. Keeping an eye on the man moving below him, he looked for the one remaining thief – Bloody Face.

He feared that if he went looking for Bloody Face, he might potentially lose Bloodhound. If he attacked Bloodhound, it could have been a carefully staged ambush and Snake Eyes might find himself injured or even incapacitated. Or it might be the delay that Bloody Face needed to find Corbin and whisk her away. He knew better than to underestimate this foe. They were always playing with cards up their sleeves and though Snake Eyes did the same, these men were playing with loaded decks.

Too many unknowns. Too many answers begetting more questions.

His visor recorded movements, heat signatures, behaviours, idioms. Anything he might review later. Anything that might help later. But Snake Eyes also knew that, despite his skills, he was human, and these things were _not_. Not completely. One of them had taken a grenade in a confined space and was still able to drive his vehicle to ambush Corbin and Jackie-Lynn. Snake Eyes knew he had shot another through the heart, and he had still been able to fight toe to toe with Snake Eyes. His hesitation had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with uncertainty.

The Joes now knew that the thief was not a solitary figure as they had believed, and Snake Eyes could only imagine how many more of these men there were in reserve. But where had they come from? Where were they born? Who trained them? How many more were there? All answers that Snake Eyes wanted, answers that might be gained if he could take one of them alive. If he could incapacitate Bloodhound quickly, it would free him to seek Bloody Face…

Taking a chance, Snake Eyes crouched and leaped off the cargo crate, diving down toward the man below him. He brought out one hand as Bloodhound turned. But Snake Eyes expected this. Snake Eyes also expected Bloodhound to step back and ready himself to receive Snake's attack, which was why Snake Eyes hadn't aimed directly for him, but two feet ahead of him.

Twisting in the air as he moved, Snake Eyes grabbed the arm that Bloodhound extended toward him, dragging the man around. Landing in a crouch and dragging Blood Hound off balance, he pivoted and slammed his palm toward Bloodhound's elbow, attempting to hyperextend it. Bloodhound, however, anticipated the move and dropped to his knees, meaning that Snake Eyes' palm extended over Bloodhound's arm. Predicting what would come next, Snake Eyes dropped his weight back on one foot and lifted his leg, avoiding the swipe from Bloodhound's, but was also forced to release the man's wrist.

Snake Eyes stepped back the barest amount, and then dove in again, not giving Bloodhound time to recover. Not that he needed it. The two of them traded blows with such equality that Snake Eyes felt like he was fighting an Arashikage trainee while Snake himself was still a novice. Though no blows landed on him, the man bounced back from any blow that Snake Eyes landed like it hadn't even happened. Just like in the alley. Just like the thief on the streets so many days ago.

Snake Eyes felt his frustration peak, but bit it back as he ducked under a swing at his head and drove his fingers toward the exposed under arm. Bloodhound intercepted his hand, slapping it aside, and then thrust his palm over his own arm, toward Snake Eyes' face. Snake Eyes ducked out of the way and drew his katana as he did. He slashed once, twice, twirled and slashed again. Bloodhound avoided all three and grabbed Snake Eyes' katana wrist.

Snake Eyes felt the Hard Master's condemnation slam in to him. _No one_ should grab your katana wrist. That meant that either they were too close, or you were too slow.

Snake Eyes yanked a trench knife from his belt and punched Bloodhound in the face with the studded knuckle guard. Not expecting that at all, Bloodhound's head snapped back, his cheek ripping open.

Twining his katana-bearing arm around Bloodhound's, Snake Eyes reversed his grip on his katana and thrust at Bloodhound with nothing more than a wrist motion. His blade speared Bloodhound through the collarbone, the blade punching out of his back. Bloodhound grunted and grabbed Snake's katana hand again, this time in both of his, and drove his knee into Snake's stomach. Tensing his abdominals, Snake absorbed the blow and breathed out with it. Then he snapped his head forward and head butted Bloodhound with his visor. Bloodhound's nose broke and blood gushed down his face. Flicking his trench knife around in his hand until he held it by the tip, Snake Eyes cracked Bloodhound on his broken nose with the knuckle guard, and the restraining hands slackened.

Snake Eyes stepped back and away from Bloodhound, drawing his katana from the sheath of the man's flesh. Twirling it as he did, he dipped it over his shoulder just as Bloody Face drove his knife toward the ninja's exposed shoulder, having come at Snake Eyes' back.

Tilting his body and angling his blade, causing Bloody Face's knife to side away, Snake Eyes returned the trench knife to his hand and drove the studded knuckle guard toward Bloody Face's midsection. Though Bloody Face bowed his spine to get away from it, an adjustment of Snake Eyes' wrist had his trench knife opening a line on Bloody Face's chest. A kick sent the man reeling and Snake Eyes turned back to Bloodhound, whose face was now just as bloody.

Snake Eyes drew his brows together behind his visor as he knocked Bloody Face back and pirouetted with all the grace of a ballerina, driving Bloodhound – who was unarmed – further and further back. Then he turned to kick Bloody Face's wrist away, sending his knife flying.

Dropping his finesse, Snake Eyes hurled himself at Bloody Face and full-body tackled him to the ground. Smacking Bloody Face's forehead on the ground, Snake Eyes rolled the man over and pinned him with a knee to the back of the neck as Bloodhound came at them. Remaining on one knee, Snake Eyes fended Bloodhound off with one arm as he pulled the Bloody Face's hands behind his back. Lashing them together with a zip tie in a moment when Bloodhound was reeling, Snake Eyes sprang back to his feet, now facing Bloodhound one on one.

To his infinite surprise, Bloodhound turned and ran.

Snake Eyes knew these men weren't cowards and they did not retreat. If Bloodhound was falling back, it was only going to be temporary. He would not leave without Corbin. Snake Eyes turned and scrambled up the side of the cargo crates, sheathing his katana and trench knife as he did so. Running along the tops, he followed Bloodhound deeper into the maze of metal boxes, glad that he was at least heading away from Corbin's hiding place.

Snake Eyes' cargo crates came to an end and there were no more for him to leap onto, so he simply dove off. Landing in a roll, he came up on his feet to see Bloodhound heave open the door of an abandoned warehouse and dart inside.

Snake Eyes' back hit the wall beside the door and he pulled his uzi from where it was strapped to his thigh. Drawing his katana, he slowly entered the building, leading with his gun. As he expected, there was no sign of Bloodhound when he got inside, just rows of dust-covered wooden boxes, rusted 44 gallon drums and darkness. Along one wall was a conveyer belt, the metal mechanism rusted with disuse. It was not unlike some of the training rooms the Joes set up to put rookies through their paces, clearing a complicated area or hunting down a target. Snake Eyes, however, was used to being that target, not the hunter.

Then again, he was also used to dealing with humns.

He swept his uzi up as his visor panned the support beams and rafters for movement or abnormalities among the straight lines and angles. Detecting none, he quickly dropped his gaze to the area around him, his katana held at the ready, his uzi brandished. His knees were bent as he moved with utter silence, not even the rattle of his gear giving him away, and he was prepared to throw himself in any direction should Bloodhound attempt to attack. Slowly the moment stretched, and Snake Eyes became worried that Bloodhound had not set up an ambush, but had lead Snake Eyes into the warehouse to lose him, so he—

Something made Snake Eyes turn and he aimed as a shadow darted between some drums, vanishing behind them. His finger didn't twitch onto the trigger, already knowing that he wouldn't have a clear shot, but now he had an indication of the enemy's position. Taking a running leap, he planted his boot on a metal-reinforced concrete pillar and leaped atop some crates that creaked ominously even under his perfect weight distribution.

Bloodhound, seeing his movement, altered direction and tried to duck behind some more crates. Snake Eyes changed Bloodhound's mind by dropping a grenade in the fleeing man's path, forcing Bloodhound to dive out of the way to avoid the explosion.

With higher ground, in a darkened warehouse, Snake Eyes found himself in total control of the situation. Equilibrium was returned. Time to establish his dominance.

Snake Eyes continued herding the man with grenades and intermittent bursts of gunfire, turning the hound into a fox. When he was finally forced into the open, Bloodhound turned to locate Snake Eyes, only to find the ninja was nowhere to be seen.

A burst of fire from the darkness, far from where Snake Eyes had last been seen, had Bloodhound spinning, eyes narrowed as he scanned the dark. Whatever superior physique these creatures had, being able to see into the shadows did not appear to be one of them.

_Good_.

That meant that he was a fool for leading Snake Eyes into the darkness.

A shuriken floated through the air from nearly the opposite direction of the gunfire, opening a line on Bloodhound's forehead. Blood immediately rushed down his face, covering his eyes. As he stumbled, Snake Eyes came in low and fast from the darkness to Bloodhound's left. Not losing a single bit of momentum, Snake Eyes opened his palm and drove the heel of his hand into Bloodhound's face as the man turned toward him. Bloodhound reeled from the blow and Snake Eyes vanished back into the darkness as silently as he had emerged. As Bloodhound tried again to locate him, a kunai buried itself in his calf, causing him to stumble. Snake Eyes darted in again as Bloodhound reached for the weapon, driving his knee toward Bloodhound's face. Following through with an open-palmed strike, Snake Eyes brought up his off hand to smash a bone-shattering blow into Bloodhound's jaw.

He knew that he should take this man alive, but Snake Eyes didn't want to leave Bloody Face alone for too long. Even though the zip ties he used had two reinforcing metal wires along their lengths, even though he had done it so tight that he was sure Bloody Face would eventually lose feeling in his fingers, even though the plastic was harder than normal zip ties, he felt sure that Bloody Face would eventually find a way out of them.

And if he had olfactory senses like Bloodhound, and Snake Eyes was willing to bet his trench-knife collection on that, Bloody Face would be on Corbin in minutes.

A tug at Snake's chest as he stepped back made him jolt as he realized that Bloodhound had grabbed a pin of one of his grenades. But Snake had taped the triggers to their flanks specifically to avoid such a disaster. Regardless, as the pin sailed over Bloodhound's shoulder, Snake now knew he had a live grenade against his chest.

_Great_.

Bloodhound, it seemed, had a plan B, because he grabbed the grenade and tucked himself in close to Snake Eyes' chest. It would be a good way for a blinded man to be able to hit his opponent, but rather than bring up his free fist to hit Snake Eyes, Bloodhound reached toward the ninja's chest.

_Three_.

Rather than try and be free, Snake Eyes drew his trench knife and made a motion that would have slit his side open had it been an inch deeper. As it was, the hidden seam of his combat vest popped open. As he did this, Snake Eyes popped the clip of his uzi so that, when he dropped it, it would not go off accidentally. Tilting his head and slashing his trench knife again, Snake Eyes sliced the shoulder of his vest and stepped out of it sideways.

_Two_.

Grabbing the left shoulder in his now free left hand, he flicked his wrist over to open the vest and reverse the direction in which it folded, so it wrapped around the hunched-over Bloodhound. Snake then stabbed the blade through the vest, pinning it to Bloodhound's back. Right between his shoulder blades. The hardest place to reach.

_One_.

Then Snake Eyes turned and bolted, diving behind some drums and praying they didn't hold gasoline.

_Zero_.

The armed grenade, as well as the remaining store of grenades, four flash bangs, two clips, two semtex, a small bag of plastique, and a small packet of C4, detonated spectacularly. Snake Eyes shielded his head as debris rained down on him. A shuriken buried itself in the concrete near his left boot and two kunai went pinging off to his right, one continuing to smash through a window of the warehouse and the other vanishing into a cargo crate.

As soon as he realized that the debris had not contained body parts or raw flesh – and recalling what the driver had survived – Snake Eyes shot to his feet and whirled. He didn't even know why he was surprised at what he saw. Somehow Bloodhound had gotten free of the vest as it detonated, taking his arm and a good portion of the rest of his body with it. His cheek was torn away, revealing a macabre, bloody half-grin, and one of his eyes bulged out of its socket, facing the wrong way. His skull was visible above his brow and blood gushed from the ruined mess of his left side. As Snake Eyes watched, much of Bloodhound's internal organs, perforated and rancid, burst from the ruptured flesh and splashed onto his boot in a mix of blood and gastric acid

But he was alive, and his remaining arm was brandishing Snake Eyes' uzi, a fresh clip in place.

Snake Eyes shot forward, dropping low as he did and rolling. The ground behind him was peppered with gunfire. As Snake Eyes came up, a bullet nicked his shoulder and another one scraped the length of his back, but he also now had his katana in both hands. He continued moving, sliding neatly past Bloodhound, as his katana parted the air so cleanly it sang like a nightingale.

Snake Eyes turned to look over his shoulder, his visor widening his peripheral, to see first Bloodhound's arm, then his head pull away from his body.

By the time the body crumpled to its knees, Snake Eyes was gone, racing from the building. He did not even bother going back to Bloody Face. He went straight for Corbin.

**~}*{~**

The explosion had Corbin's head lifting from the steering wheel. She knew it was an explosion, though it had been dulled by the metal sides of the cargo crate. She'd played enough games and watched enough movies. Reaching up, she flicked off the overhead light. Then she looked at the gun sitting on the passenger's seat beside her.

Her fingers closed around it, chipped black nails vanishing against the black matte of the weapon. Even with it in her hand, she still felt like a victim.

_Victim_.

The word bounced around Corbin's head and she felt like the cargo crate's darkened interior was picking up the sound and bouncing it back at her a thousand fold. She clenched her fist around the gun, eyes narrowed.

_Victim_.

Corbin had never been victim. Never allowed herself to be one. Not when the boys had pushed her to the ground, much larger and stronger than she. Not when those playground pushes turned into school yard scuffles, and scuffles had turned into full on beatings. Not when the girls at school had pulled her hair and, when they became older and more malicious, burned her arm with cigarettes. Not in her first brawl at fourteen when she kicked the shit out of a guy twice her age, and then had the crap beaten out of her by his friends. Not even the first time her mother slapped her across the face in a drunken rage. Corbin Alice McQuinn had never been a fucking victim. Her instinct was always to fight back against the situation, against her assailant, to never give up. Never give in. She hadn't always won, but she had always fought.

Until now.

Snake Eyes might think she was an idiot for walking into a dangerous situation, but Corbin had thought that dying free was the worst thing that could happen to her. Watching Jackie bleed out had shown her how fucking wrong she was. She couldn't protect her, couldn't protect herself. Couldn't fight back.

_Victim_.

Doubling over, Corbin wrapped her arms over her head and tried to choke back tears. Crying achieved nothing, but there was nothing else Corbin could do. She wasn't even sure that she could fire the gun to protect herself. She knew how to use it, she just wasn't sure if she _could_. She and Jackie had gone to firing ranges numerous times to practice, even if they didn't actually own a weapon. Jackie wanted to go so she could lend authenticity to her writing, and Corbin wanted to know what it felt like to shoot a gun.

She didn't like it.

She could punch a man out cold – or at least she had been able to when she was fit –, but her fists could be used for other things, like holding hands, or caressing a cheek. The violence she had once been so willing to mete out was tempered by the knowledge that she was also capable of gentleness, of kindness, of caring. Even a knife could be used to prepare food, to give life. You _chose_ how to use a knife.

A gun's one and only purpose was to harm, or kill.

Its only purpose was to hurt.

Taking a breath, she leant back and closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the gun. Reaching up, she pulled back the slide and caught the bullet that popped from the chamber. Popping the clip, she replaced the bullet, slammed the clip home again and clicked on the safety. Then she sat there for a time, hand cupped around the butt of the gun, finger resting on the trigger guard.

Corbin had never actually killed anyone, for any reason, but she had no doubt that had the gun been in her hand when Jackie was lying on the ground, dying, she would have killed Bloody Face, and Wounded, and anyone else that came her way.

Would she have regretted it later?

Would she be able to sleep knowing she had killed someone?

Metal scraped behind her and Corbin instantly dropped in the seats. She had each of the car's doors open should something happen, so she didn't have to bother with trying to open one quietly in a moment of panic, and she slid out of the driver's side soundlessly. Circling around to the front of the car, she grabbed the fender and braced one boot on the bumper and one on the front of the cargo crate. As soon as she was balanced, the cargo doors were heaved open, bathing the interior with light. Even though it was not directly on her, the sudden change of illumination made Corbin squint.

Corbin's hope that it might be Snake Eyes was destroyed when she heard the heavy tread moving to the driver's side door; Snake Eyes wouldn't make so much noise. She heard the sound of someone searching the car, and then the wet sound of sniffing. Corbin touched the throbbing, aching mess of her knee eyes widening. If they could go toe to toe with a master ninja, who Corbin was sure would be able to smell blood, she was damn sure these men could, too.

Boots traced a quick path to the front of the car and Corbin dropped to the ground, sliding silently around the side of the vehicle. She heard a hand brace on the bonnet as whoever it was checked where she had been hiding nanoseconds previously. There was more sniffing. She sincerely hoped that he couldn't hear heartbeats, because the hummingbird in her chest was going to give her away. There was a sound of boots scraping on the metal floor. Corbin grabbed the door frame and hauled her feet off the ground, crouching on the edge of the car. She stared, eyes wide, at the back of whoever it was that was searching beneath the car. Could she shoot him? In the confined space of the cargo crate, she was sure that the shot would deafen her, and she wasn't confident that, even from that range, she would be able to hit him.

_Whatever. I am so fucking sick of _running_._

She lifted her gun and pulled back the hammer. It was an unnecessary gesture on the weapon, but the sound was distinct, and it served to get the man's attention. He slowly rose up, staring at Corbin as she knelt in the footwell of the back seat of the car. She had both hands on the gun to steady it, one finger resting on the trigger.

The man cocked his head. He was Bloody Face, the man that Jackie had kicked the shit out of on the street.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, glad that her voice didn't shake. "I have nothing to do with you, or anything you do. Why are you after me?"

He said nothing.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Her voice was louder. "Are you trying to kidnap me?" When he still didn't speak, she shook the gun, like he might not have seen it. "_Why_?"

"Either you pull the trigger," he said, his voice smooth and almost sensual with a rumble that originated from deep in his chest, "or you come with me."

"So you have been ordered to take me alive," she whispered.

"My orders are none of your concern. Kill me or come with me. Decide."

Corbin pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Corbin's mind went blank with terror, and she stared absurdly at the weapon. _The safety_.

"Very well."

Then he slammed his hands onto the door frame and shoved. Corbin gasped as the _entire vehicle_ shifted sideways and Corbin was thrown off balance as it hit the wall of the cargo crate. Corbin only had a moment to realise that she was trapped before a bloody hand wrapped around hers, gun and all, and yanked her from the car. The gun was torn from her grip and she watched it bounce toward the front of the vehicle, far beyond her reach. Then Corbin fell against the wall of the cargo crate, landing painfully on her knees. One arm was ripped behind her body as she was lifted and slammed against the metal wall, the breath rushing out of her body.

_Victim_.

Corbin staggered as she was pulled away from the wall, and the man's grip shifted from her arm to her shirt. Corbin's hands snapped up and she grabbed either side of the buttons at the front, ripping them open. Bending her arms backwards, she pulled free of the garment, stumbling and falling. Then she was jerked backwards by something around her throat.

_The tie_!

Corbin choked, briefly, and Bloody face used the tie to pull her back. Planting her feet as best as she could, Corbin tuned and directed a blow to his face, which made him jerk back. Her feint payed off when she was able to land a solid punch to the man's crotch.

Whatever he was, and whoever he worked for, a sac tap worked just as effectively as it did on anyone else. He dropped to his knees, wheezing, and Corbin fell onto her back, using her new leverage to ram her heel into his much closer chin.

As he fell back against the side of the cargo crate, Corbin scooted down and closer, twisting her body around to kick him in the face when he tried to recover. Instead of connecting, however, her ankle was caught in his hand, and he pulled her closer.

Corbin barely had time to brace before he punched her full across the face, spinning her around and sending her sprawling on the floor. As her head spun, she felt something grab her hair and pull her up, her scalp threatening to come away from her skull. Her hands came up and wrapped around his wrist, fighting to get her feet under her. Then he rammed her head first, into the side of the car. Corbin's limbs ceased functioning properly as her brow split open, blood trickling down her face. Unable to resist, she was dragged from the cargo crate, and she felt Bloody Face prepare to pick her up. Then there was a strange hissing sound and Corbin was pitched forward off balance. She stumbled a single step before falling onto her front. Something warm and sticky splashed her back, and something warm and fleshy landed after it.

Shaking blood from her face, Corbin looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening. With a gasp of disgust she shoved the severed limb away and scooted backwards, watching Bloody Face clutch the ruined stump of his forearm, howling.

Corbin's eyes widened when she realised what exactly had happened, and spun to look over her shoulder. A black-clad hand reach toward her. She grabbed it, and pulled herself up as Snake Eyes pulled her away from Bloody Face. He tucked her face into his chest, covering her head with one hand, as Bloody Face charged.

Snake Eyes lifted the gun he had given Corbin, the gun he had picked up off the ground as he arrived at the cargo crate, and pulled the trigger.

After Bloody Face had hit the ground, Snake Eyes adjusted his aim and emptied the clip into Bloody Face's head.

**~}*{~**

The Tomahawk touched down in an open area of the docks that was situated close to the sea. Snake Eyes watched it descend, the bodies of Bloody Face and Bloodhound laid out to one side and covered with some blue tarp weighed down with miscellaneous items from the hidden toolbox in the 4WD. He didn't want Corbin to see them, and it was the best he could do, considering.

Duke stepped out of the jet, his face grim and his eyes grimmer. Before Duke could open his mouth, Snake Eyes turned and looked off to one side to where Corbin sitting at the edge of the dock. She was staring out over the endless expanse of blue, to where the sky and water met far in the distance. Her shirt was wrapped around her body, held closed by the two buttons that remained in place and her tightly clenched fists.

Snake Eyes and Duke approached Corbin, and Duke stood back as Snake Eyes knelt and touched Corbin's back. She started violently, turning too-wide eyes to him. Her eyes drifted past his head and he knew then that she had been totally unaware of the approach of the Tomahawk, lost in her own world.

Duke walked over until he was standing beside Corbin. "Come on, Corbin. Let's get you some place safe."

For a moment it seemed like she hadn't heard him. Then she glanced toward Duke slightly, not all the way, though, before her eyes turned to the sea once more. Snake Eyes and Duke merely sat and waited. Finally, she said, barely audibly, "Okay…"

Duke took her arm and pulled her to her feet. She stood for a moment, keeping her balance, and then turned. The moment she put any weight on her bad knee, however, it buckled and she stumbled. Snake Eyes jerked forward to catch her, but she threw out a hand, looking up at him.

"I can do it." Her eyes said _Please. Let me do at least this on my own_.

Snake Eyes dropped his arms and nodded to her, once. He was rewarded with a quiet, pained smile. Then she turned and walked toward the Tomahawk, looking more alone than ever before.

**~}*{~**

Three hours later, with fresh gauze on her face, bandages on her knee and new bandages on her hands, Corbin jerked the zipper of the overnight bag closed. Once Scarlett had declared that her shock was fading and Corbin felt coherency come back into her control, she had been allowed into her apartment under the cover of darkness to retrieve the essentials. She had done so quickly, taking only what she thought she would absolutely need. Essential clothing. Some sketchbooks and pencils to keep her occupied. Several books for her to read. Her teddy bear. If the Joes thought it weird that she was bringing a huge teddy with her, none of them gave any indication.

Only what she would _absolutely_ need, they had said.

Corbin's eyes strayed over to a picture resting on her bedside table. A picture of ten years past. It was of Corbin, Jackie-Lynn and Grammy Kaye, sitting outside and enjoying a warm Australian day. It was one of the few times Corbin didn't have a black eye or other damage from some random fight, and actually looked healthy. It was also one of the few times Jackie-Lynn looked demure, in a plain flowing skirt and scoop-necked shirt. Black, of course.

Turning away, Corbin went to lift her overnight bag, but Snake Eyes was there, hefting it over his shoulder, the other one hanging from his hand. He nodded to her and exited the room before she could protest. Not that she would have. Though she had coherency under her control once again, exhaustion was beginning to take its toll.

Hugging Higgins to her chest, she stepped from the bedroom and saw Scarlett stepping guiltily away from the massive gown that she had partially-formed on a dressmaker mannequin in the corner of her apartment. Corbin wondered what she had been doing, but as with Snake Eyes, she couldn't form a coherent thought beyond that.

"Alright," she said softly.

But the moment the words slipped from her mouth, she knew they were false. Her mouth opened to speak again, but Duke had already turned away. She hesitated, glancing at Snake Eyes. His visored face stared back. Rubbing her chest, she turned and fell into step behind Duke, trooping out of the apartment in near-total silence. Snake Eyes took up the rear, lowering a bag long enough to close the door behind them. The tumble of locks made Corbin's eyes close with grief. The damn thing could be robbed, or burn down, and it couldn't worsen her situation.

Well, it could. Should Jackie die, the destruction of all her personal belongings might send Corbin spiralling off the edge and straight in front of the next truck to roll down the road.

Corbin rubbed her eyes as she climbed into the van behind Duke. Snake Eyes came behind her, carefully laying her two bags down beside her. He sat down on the other side of them. Corbin wrapped herself around Higgins, her teddy bear. The van was going to take them to the outskirts of New York City, where the Tomahawk was waiting, and from there she would head to her new home in the Pit, as it was called.

_You fault_.

She twisted her fingers in Higgins' fur, wanting to speak, but too afraid to do so. Her voice caught in her throat, lodged behind the bitter lump of tears she refused to shed.

_Your fault_.

She willed herself to speak. Willed herself to say it. The van started.

_If she dies…_

"I want to see Jackie."

She didn't look up as she both heard and felt them all turn to her. Half a dozen pairs of eyes falling on her pathetic form. She knew they would refuse. She knew it was too dangerous. But she said it again. 'I want to see Jackie.' She enunciated each word clearly. Resolute. She fought tears, fought a trembling of her lips, of her voice, and lifted her head. Her eyes skipped over Breaker and Ripcord, met Scarlett's gaze, found Duke, brushed Heavy Duty's eyes visible in the rear view mirror, then found Snake Eyes. She let them all see that she knew the risks this time. Let them all see she knew what she was asking, this time. Knew what she wanted to do. And why.

"Please."

The van pulled away from the curb and headed deeper into the city.

**~}*{~**

Corbin had ten minutes and counting, and she couldn't open the goddamn door.

The private hospital room was guarded by a man in casual attire, but he snapped a sharp salute to Duke, who was ahead of Corbin, and Snake, who was behind her. Corbin could see a window through the glass of the door, and she was very careful not to track her eyes to the left, where she knew the bed lay. The hospital floor they stood on was nearly deserted, and the nurse at the reception had fastidiously kept her eyes down as they passed. Corbin couldn't imagine what Duke and the others had said on her behalf in order to get her to Jackie's room, but there she was.

_God, you are such a fucking child_. Corbin stared at the handle before her, which taunted her with its motionlessness, waiting for her to have the balls to open it and see what lay beyond. _Just do it. You got her into this situation. The least you can do is see what you did to her_. Corbin reached out and opened the door before she could think better of it. When she entered the room, however, she wished she _had_ thought better of it. Or, at least, had prepared herself for what she found.

Her knees buckled and she nearly hit the deck, but someone grabbed her arms and held her up. Shaking the hands away, Corbin staggered toward the bed, a low, animal sound of grief escaping her.

"Jackie…" One violently shaking hand came out to touch her flawless cheek, but stopped before she could make contact, terrified that one touch might shatter Jackie like porcelain and reveal something hideous.

Jackie-Lynn Matthews was one of the few women in the world who looked more devastatingly gorgeous out of makeup than she did when she was in it. Though she could make herself look like an exotic beauty or a sultry vixen or innocent with some artful strokes of eyeliner and strategic use of eyeshadow, when she was without makeup she was Venus-like in her appearance. Naturally rounded cheeks of unblemished skin, due to the absolute care she took of it, and her stupidly healthy diet, were framed by locks that had a slight, natural curl to them, dyed blacker than black at the moment but naturally a dark, chestnut brown. Absurdly long lashes fanned against high cheekbones, a Cupid's bow mouth that curled up slightly at the outer corners, giving her an eternal smile. There were dark bruises under her eyes, but that did not detract from her beauty at all. Nor did the holes in her ears where they had removed her piercings.

The blanket was draped over her chest, making her appear asleep except for the gauze covering her brow and the bandaging on her arm. That and the intubation device holding her mouth open, forcing her lungs to work, forcing oxygen into her blood. The tube looked like a violation and Corbin wanted to rip it from her, wanted to preserve Jackie's natural beauty, but instead all she could do was collapsed in on herself. Leaning forward, Corbin wrapped her fists around the railing to the bed, closed her eyes and locked her jaw.

_Don't you _dare_ cry. You don't deserve the luxury_.

Lifting her head, Corbin stared at the roof, blinking rapidly. Then she looked down at Jackie again.

"I don't know who they are," she whispered. "I don't know what they want from me. I don't even care anymore. All I care is that they hurt you, and I swear to God and the Devil and everything in between, I am going to kill them for it."

Corbin turned away from the bed and walked to the door. Stepping outside the private hospital room, she spoke without looking at Duke or Snake Eyes, who were standing either side of her.

"I'm ready."

**~}*{~**

_Thank you for reading this chapter of G.I. Joe Paradise Lost. If you have a chance, please leave a brief word in the reviews section. They're what keep me going._

_Love_

_Anne_


	8. Ch 7: Left Hand of the Devil

**Last updated**: 9/10/11

**Edit Note:** Chapter has undergone revision and rewriting.

**Chapter Seven**

_The Left Hand of the Devil_

**~}*{~**

'Thus far these beyond  
Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed  
their dread commander…'

_Paradise Lost, _Book I, 587 - 589

**~}*{~**

**The Pit**

"Well that didn't work."

Hawk turned and looked over his shoulder as Alpha Team, sans Snake Eyes, entered the CIC and arrayed themselves around the central holographic projection table. Behind them, already in the room, senior members of G.I. Joe had already received the preliminary report and were just waiting debriefing from Team Alpha.

Scarlett looked directly at Hawk. "They knew we would respond to a break-in at the fifty-second research facility. It's why they didn't disable the security systems." She gestured at the screens behind Hawk, which was showing multiple shots of the thief running through halls, from varying angles.

"Then he and his companion jerk us around for an hour before giving away that there were actually two of them," added Ripcord, voice thick with derision. "Gotta hand it to 'em, the bastards are cunning."

"Yes, Ripcord, they have sort of left that impression on me," rumbled Hawk.

As Ripcord made a face and Duke elbowed him for his trouble, Scarlett said, "This wasn't a trap for whoever responded. It was a lure meant to weaken whoever was left behind to guard Corbin."

"I, for one," said Duke, "am glad for Snake's spidey sense."

The ninja master in question was the only person absent, chased to the infirmary by Scarlett's stern glare for a check following his adventures in New York.

"Miss McQuinn?"

"The medical bay," said Duke, having announced Alpha Team's arrival in the CIC. "I think she's too shocked to be any trouble."

"Good. The last thing I need right now is a headstrong nuisance that I can't threaten military disciplinary action on," groused Hawk, facing Team Alpha. "Does she know?"

"That we used her as bait?" asked Scalett. "No."

"And let's pray that she never does," muttered Ripcord.

"As aggressive as the woman is," said Hawk, looking at Ripcord, "my priority here is the safety of the countries whose research has been stolen and whose security has been compromised. If I have to offend Miss McQuinn's sensibilities, then so be it."

"Sir," Duke held up a hand. "No one's questioning you or your order."

Hawk made a long, low grumble and turned back to the screen.

"It does make sense," said Breaker slowly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Two thieves. Four remaining. Odds are that anyone left behind to watch Corbin while the rest went to respond to the break in would be outnumbered."

Scarlett glanced at Breaker. "You think that they actually prepared this trap for us? For Alpha Team to be the ones to render aid?"

"Maybe." It was Duke that spoke this time. "Or maybe they know that six is the standard number of a deployment team for the Joes." Then he grimaced. 'Damn. I feel like we're missing something here."

"We're missing a lot of things." Hawk folded his arms over his chest as he stared at his Alpha Team.

"What I don't get," said Heavy Duty, "was how they knew that _we'd_ respond."

"Perhaps not us specifically." Breaker hugged himself as he glanced at his team. "Considering the priority they had to know that Corbin would not only be watched, but there would have to be people left to protect her. Even if it was an even distribution, whoever was left with Corbin would _still_ be outnumbered."

'Or maybe they chose the exact number of people that would be efficient for the task.' Duke rubbed the back of his head, scowling. 'After all, we thought it was one person. Now there's seven. Just how many more of these guys are there?'

'But what I don't get," said Heavy Duty loudly, and with obvious irritation, 'is why they didn't team up before now. Why did the first thief always work alone if they could work together?"'

The doors to the CIC swung open and Snake Eyes strode in, his hands moving. _They can't_.

"What do you mean?" asked Breaker as Alpha Team faced him.

_When I fought them, they fought like one person. Hardly the optimum condition for fighting in a team._

"I'm lost," said Duke.

"His hands are moving too fast," said Ripcord at almost the same time.

Snake walked to the bottom of the stairs of the debriefing room, moving his hands slower as he signed to the team, but keeping his visor on Hawk. _They can't fight together because they fight exactly the same. _

"Now I'm lost," said Ripcord.

"They literally fight like the same person? asked Scarlett. With a heavy hand-to-hand combat background, she understood what Snake Eyes was saying before anyone else did.

Snake Eyes nodded.

"No individual differences whatsoever?"

Snake Eyes shook his head.

"So? So what?" Ripcord shrugged and looked around at the team. "That means they trained together, right? That much was obvious."

"No," said Scarlett, looking at him, more than a little impatient. Thankfully she remained professional, keeping her tone placid as she explained. "What Snake is saying is that these people were, in essence, fighting clones. When people train together, regardless of how much or how extensive, they develop individual differences, preferences, unique styles. They play to their strengths, and try and cover their weaknesses. No two fighters are exactly the same, no matter how much they've trained together."

"Snake." Everyone looked at Hawk, who continued, speaking directly to his ninja commando, "What's the significance of that?"

_When you fight with someone in a partnership, or even training for an extended period of time, you compensate for their style. You begin to complement one another. These men fight as the same person, and the same person means no compensation of complementary style_.

"They can't fight together?" said Duke slowly. "They can't fight as a team?"

_Not effectively._ Snake glanced at Duke, then at Scarlett, then at Hawk. _What works against one, works against all. What one is good at, all are good at, and what one is weak at, all are weak at. These men appear to be perfect at solo operations, as we have seen, but they are weakened in groups._

"That is probably why they've worked alone until now," Scarlett surmised.

Hawk paced, and then nodded at Snake. "I want you to do a full report on fighting style and technique. Anything we can use against them in the future. We know there are at least two more that have not been apprehended. Alpha Team was forced to break off pursuit when Corbin was attacked and they got away. But considering that six of them just popped out of the woodwork, who knows how many more there are." Hawk, who had since paced slightly to one side, turned to face Snake Eyes fully. "Did Doc clear you for active duty?"

Snake Eyes flashed an 'OK'. Hawk arched a brow and looked over Snake Eyes' shoulder, to the man that had entered behind the ninja. Doc had, until that moment, escaped the notice of most of the occupants of the room. Obviously not Hawk, though.

"Of course he's fine," said Doc, expression flat. "He's fully conscious and walking."

"That really doesn't reassure me." Hawk stared at Snake Eyes. "Remember that time in Arizona?"

"To be fair," said Duke. "Snake Eyes was limping then and couldn't hold his katana."

"He should have been _dead_," said Ripcord. "He jumped from a _helicopter_. Nearly one hundred feet. To solid, hard-packed earth. And that was before you even got into the fight."

Snake Eyes shrugged, _I was late_. A smattering of laughter met that signed statement.

Doc looked less than pleased at the reminder. It was one of the few times Snake Eyes had required a gurney into the medical facility, but the ninja was still up and about within a few hours of being treated, much to Doc's infinite frustration. "Like I said. Cleared for duty."

In the Joes' infancy, Hawk had more than one hundred and fifty potential candidates to head his medical staff. One hundred and fifty masters of the field from more than twenty countries that would be invaluable to the team.

Three days before he made his decision, Flint, Lady Jaye, Stalker and Tunnel Rat had gone missing in South Africa, hunted by local militia. The only reason they survived the grievous wounds they received was a man named Arim Jefferson, a Harvard-educated American who had coincidentally returned to his roots at the very village in which the Joes had taken refuge. When they were evacuated to safety, and after Hawk had heard the story of Arim's skill, efficiency and calm under fire, Hawk had offered him the chance to join the Joes, to help them protect the Joes and, thus, the world from the most depraved minds that existed.

It had taken him three minutes to accept.

Since then, Doc had personally treated almost every single Joe that had passed through the Joe's halls; those he had not treated were new enough to have never been injured, but all of their medical records would be stored in the endless archives that rested behind Doc's eyes, ready to be accessed at any point in time with unnerving accuracy.

"What about Miss McQuinn?" asked Hawk. Instantly the mirth died and even Snake turned back to Doc. Though the ninja had been checked over at the same time as Corbin, he had, as expected, not been privy to the examination, except for the time he had to convince Corbin not to beat Doc to death with a bedpan. There had been a lot of silent, miming negotiation and Corbin had allowed the medical professional to live, so long as she could wear her underwear beneath her hospital gown.

"Miss McQuinn did not fare as well as Snake Eyes, but fortunately the damage done to her isn't permanent, and she seems to cope well with the pain. Or, rather, she was reluctant to take anything to dull it." What Snake Eyes knew Doc was not mentioning, was that when Doc attempted to give Corbin a shot of painkiller, she had practically thrown herself out of the room to prevent the needle from entering her arm. When she discovered that it was not, in fact, morphine, she had allowed it to happen. "I thought she might have a mild concussion, but thankfully that was avoided."

"Just as a point of curiosity," said Duke. "Does she have a head made of stone or steel?'

Behind his mask, Snake gave a tiny smile.

"The bruising, of course, is expected. There is some deep-tissue bruising that I will keep an eye on, and I do believe she came a hair's breadth from dislocating her shoulder. Of course there are still the small fractures to her ribs, but she has no problems breathing. The worst of it is really her knee, which is actually more severe than I thought, but shouldn't have any permanent issues. When I recommended a crutch though, she told me to… introduce it somewhere not designed for anything that large."

Duke laughed quietly and shook his head, rubbing his thumb over one of his eyebrows. "Sounds like she's going to be just fine."

"Where is she now?" asked Hawk.

"I asked one of the privates to take her to her room."

Hawk nodded and glanced up and to his left. The man he looked toward adjusted his glasses and stepped forward. Psych-Out's contribution to the Joes was a terrifying skill at psychological warfare, born from his mental health expertise. His primary function, however, was to maintain the psychological stability of everyone that was a part of the Joes program.

"Considering all she has been through, and considering what I know already of her, I think I will wait to do a psych evaluation. However, I will ask anyone that comes in contact with her to watch for signs of PTSD, the onset of depression and the like. Even if she is able to psychologically and emotionally cope with everything that has happened, her closeness to… Miss Jackie-Lynn Matthews could serve as a catalyst for severe psychological deterioration considering what has happened to her. General Hawk, I respectfully request that you keep Miss McQuinn appraised of the situation regarding Miss Matthews."

"Noted."

"I did notice a few things during my examination," Doc piped up. Stepping up to Psych-Out, Doc handed him a slender folder from within the file he was holding. "Here. Corbin's full physical evaluation. Sir, I have taken the liberty of leaving one on your desk for you."

"Very well," said Hawk, brows lowering. "Regardless. Keep an eye on her, boys. She may be cleared, but she's still a security risk as far as I'm concerned."

"I would also like to put in a call to Dr Rousseau," said Doc. I would prefer it if she did the autopsy. If nothing else, her expertise would be invaluable. And we can trust her."

"Agreed." Hawk looked around, waiting for someone else to add anything. "Alright. Alpha Team. You're on R and R. Go get some sleep. Dismissed."

As the room dispersed, Snake Eyes backed away and toward the door.

"Snake."

He turned and glanced over his shoulder as Scarlett put a gentle hand on his arm, fingers sliding to his wrist.

"Are you okay?"

He knew what she was asking, and he slowly nodded.

"We're going to get something to eat. Do you want to come?"

She knew the answer would be no, but she always asked. Snake Eyes appreciated the sentiment, reaching out to place his hand over hers as he shook his head.

"You're going to check on Corbin, aren't you." It was a statement.

Snake Eyes' ear was keen enough to detect a fellow ninja slipping through the darkness, and was more than keen enough to detect something in Scarlett's voice. What, exactly, he had no idea.

He nodded.

"Alright," said Scarlett. "You know where to find me if you need me."

She walked past him and down the hall, deviating left. Snake Eyes did the same a few seconds later, but turned right.

He was going to check on Corbin, but he wasn't sure exactly why. She was safe in the Pit. She was safe in her room. But then again, she had been safe from Doc, but when she cringed away from his touch, Snake Eyes had still wanted to tell Doc to stop, even though he was just taking her blood. Now, Snake Eyes wanted to get himself away from the dark desire to protect Corbin from his allies and friends, not because he thought that Hawk's continued consideration of Corbin as a threat was wrong. In fact, it was very prudent. Rather, he was more worried about the fact that he himself did not regard Corbin as a threat at all.

And he had no idea why.

**~}*{~**

Snake Eyes tapped on Corbin's door, but received no response. He stood there for a time, wondering if he should knock louder. Instead, he slowly opened the door and looked into the darkened room.

The G.I. Joe program, despite what Hawk would like to insist, was an American-dominated operation. More than sixty-seven percent of the personnel were American. Their commanding officer and some of his immediate subordinates were American. Much of their equipment was the American standard or American approved. Snake Eyes himself, as a dual American-Japanese citizen, was still Japanese by birth and often felt a part of the extreme minority in the Joes. Hell, their very name was an American colloquial term for soldiers. It was only natural that the countries that had signed on would want to keep a personal eye on how things were run within the Joes, and this was one of the rooms utilized for the duration of their stay at the Pit.

Now the room would be Corbin's for the foreseeable future.

Corbin wasn't asleep. She was sitting on her bed, legs crossed, her fingers fiddling with something in front of her. a moment Snake Eyes wondered if she knew he was there, but then her head turned, like she would look at him, before returning to staring at what her hands were doing.

She was no longer wearing her hospital gown, but a pair of slacks and a shirt with an unknown comic book character on it. Snake Eyes could understand her need to change; hospital gowns were one of the most humiliating things one could endure, and during his Arashikage training, Snake Eyes had learned to let go of his shame. But though Snake Eyes could be bullied, coerced and blackmailed into subjecting himself to treatment when he was severely wounded, he would rather be naked and treated than in a hospital gown.

Strangely, though, her clothing was not what Corbin had fought the hardest to keep during her examination. As he approached slowly, Snake Eyes saw her fingers were clutching the delicate white gold band that spanned her right ring finger, her left thumb resting on what Snake Eyes knew were two dark sapphires framing a perfect diamond. Though her other jewellery changed at a whim, that ring was always on her person. It obviously had great sentimental value. Not for the first time, Snake Eyes wondered where she had gotten the ring. Or, rather, who had given it to her.

"So this is going to be my… home." He wondered what word she was going to use instead. It was a rhetorical question, though, and spared him from needing to answer. The silence stretched, and Snake Eyes turned to leave.

Something grabbed his arm, stopping him, and he looked back to see Corbin staring up at him with eyes wide with anxiety.

"Don't go," she whispered. "Unless… unless you have somewhere you need to be. If not… Please Snake. Just stay with me for a second."

Snake Eyes cast around, but unable to find anything, he simply sat on the bed. Then, looking at Corbin's face, he stood again and lifted the blanket for her slightly.

She made a petulant face and looked away. "I'm fine."

He pointed under the blanket.

After a few minutes of staring her down, Corbin finally slid her legs beneath the blanket and eased herself under it. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her exhaustion showed, and her eyes fluttered closed. Snake Eyes sat on the bed beside her, watching her in silence as she fought not to fall asleep.

Carefully, he placed his hand over one of hers. When her eyes opened, he squeezed gently.

"Safe," she whispered. "That's what you're trying to tell me right? That I'm safe?"

Snake Eyes nodded.

Corbin's face slowly crumpled and she rolled onto her back, covering her face with one arm, exposing the bandages and scratches along its length. "You don't understand. None of you understand."

_Then explain it to me_.

Corbin dropped her arm, almost like she had heard his thoughts. For a time she just stared at the roof of her small room. Then her lashes drifted down. Snake Eyes continued to wait for an answer, until her regular breathing and peaceful expression told him that she had fallen asleep. Instinct had him leaning over to shake her awake, not because he wanted his answer, but because he feared she had a concussion. But logically, if she had a concussion Doc would have kept her under observation. If she was in a coma, it was due to exhaustion. Slowly, he lowered his hands. Silently rising from the bed, he pulled the blanket higher on her and, after a hesitation, brushed some of her hair from her face, his thumb tracing the thin line on her cheek where the bullet grazed her.

Snake Eyes drew back both physically and mentally, as he stared at Corbin's sleeping face. Corbin McQuinn was a ward of the Joes, their responsibility. His responsibility. Despite what Psych-Out might say, she was still under suspicion, and Snake Eyes knew he would do well to remember all of that.

As Snake Eyes turned away, he saw her belongings piled at the end. On top of it all was her tattered teddy bear, which she had hugged like a child as they left her apartment. After a moment of consideration, he picked up the teddy and placed it in the crook of Corbin's arm. Then he took two fortifying steps back from Corbin's bed. As he stared at her sleeping body, another image came to his mind, of a face he had seen battered more than once. Paler skin. Paler eyes. Bright red hair.

Scarlett.

Snake Eyes put his hand to his head and dug his fingers into the hair beneath the fabric in self reproach. Why had Scarlett even surfaced in his mind's eye? The turmoil she brought him had nothing to do with Corbin. _Scarlett_ was a fellow soldier, and Snake Eyes had firmly dealt with that, privately and long ago.

Corbin was… Corbin had nothing to do with that. At all.

Snake Eyes dropped his hand and stared at the opposite wall as he composed himself as the master ninja he knew he was. The child of the Arashikage, one of the Hard Master's greatest students. More than a simple man, more than a fighter.

But still a human, unfortunately.

Snake Eyes left the room, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it. His head went down as he stared at nothing, alone in the still silence of the hall.

All he could see in his mind's eye was Corbin's battered face, and her quiet voice telling him that he didn't understand.

Then he pulled his hand from the doorknob, turned, and forced himself to walk away.

**~}*{~**

**Somewhere in South America**

"I need to see him."

The faceless guard stared at Serafina in silence, and she stifled an expression of frustration. After a moment, the man sidestepped and jerked his head, indicating the doorway behind him. Biting back a scathing comment, Serafina keyed in her security code and opened the door for herself.

The impudence was galling. _She_ was the reason this place even existed. She had found it, funded it, populated it. Then she cracked a madman's egg, hatched an incomplete being, and suddenly she was tied to a laboratory, cooking up paltry, second-rate serums to juice up already hyped roughnecks hired out of any backwater place that produces people capable of taking life without remorse.

Serafina glanced at the man that was guarding the door. He had once been one of hers, an early-stage prototype that owed everything he was to her genius. Serafina had lured him with money, enthralled him with a procedure that left him more than human, and he had tossed her aside for more promising employment for a killer.

_Typical_.

The door closed behind Serafina and her heels clicked over the metal-covered surface beneath her, approaching the man standing before a large array of screens, leaning over the control panel before him.

"Serpentor."

He rose to his full height, his emerald green cloak rippling behind him. There was a moment where he let his inaction stretch, letting her know who had the power. Then his hooded head turned, bringing into her view his face. Though there appeared nothing truly ostentatious about his attire – well, disregarding how ostentatious a hooded cloak was – when one saw Serpentor from the corner of their eye, the hood's strange shape made it appear like a cobra's head leaning over him from behind, and the embroidery along the seam gave the impression of recurve fangs and glaring black eyes.

Serafina, personally, thought he looked like a moron.

"Doctor Montag." He lifted his chin as he gazed down his nose at her. The man was quite literally massive, nearly six feet six in height. Serafina was not a little woman, but she knew the power those massive arms held. She knew the cunning behind those eyes. When he entered her laboratory, he was out of control, raging, letting his mania show through. But here, in his throne room, he was every inch the regal Emperor he stylized himself to be. Another side of the coin. If a coin had about fifteen sides.

Though, considering the flawed manner in which he was brought to life, there was no mystery as to why he was so unstable. Serafina would learn well from Mindbender's failures.

"I am… very sorry to bother you, my lord." She said the title with some hesitation, but did not want to cross this side of his personality. She now knew why the guard had taken so long to let her in. Obviously Serpentor had been doing something he had not wanted her to see. Serafina found this distasteful. She needed to know what Serpentor was doing in order to plan around his actions. But he was a suspicious man, and he would never, ever trust her. "But I have important news."

"Your creatures?"

"Dead. The Joes have the girl." Silence reigned, and Serafina continued without a flicker of an eyelash, "But this is nothing to be concerned over. In fact, it wasn't anything that was unexpected, and I believe that it will work to our advantage. More importantly, I have another field agent retrieving the final information I need for the Arctic Subject. We will soon have the information you require."

Serpentor hummed with irritation. "I don't care about your pet projects, Serafina. These delays begin to frustrate me."

"I am sorry, but my work requires patience, lord Serpentor. It is impossible to rush it." Serafina forced her head to dip with contrition. Serpentor, in his great egotism, would not see the falseness of it. 'However, I have retrieved the information I promised you.' She produced a diskette and approached Serpentor, handing it to him.

"Excellent." He turned the diskette over in his hand, and then faced the screens. 'I am rather tired of you being the one to humiliate the Joes. It's time for the world to realise their ineffectiveness.' Serpentor inserted the diskette into a player and the screens leaped to life with the information it contained. "The girl is now a secondary consideration, Serafina. Whatever creatures you have left are to be dedicated to the main task."

"Yes, Serpentor."

"I want my army, Serafina."

"I will do my best."

"I will tolerate nothing less than perfection, Serafina. Understand? I want them _perfect_. This, I command." He spun to her with his final words, his voice deadly quiet.

Serafina met his gaze unflinchingly. "I will do my best, Serpentor, and you will not find anyone who can do better. They simply don't exist."

Without waiting for his dismissal, Serafina turned on her heel and walked from the room , bypassing the guard without a second glance. The moment she cleared the hallway, two of her remaining 'creatures', as Serpentor called them, fell into step on either side of her. Of the original ten of her successful creations, there were now only five left, and the two either side of her would no longer leave her side. She would not allow it. It was a sad day when Serafina felt that she needed protection in her own facility, and sadder still when she felt her position of power so threatened that she needed to keep proof of her usefulness to Serpentor in constant view.

Damn the bastard.

Stepping into the elevator, she accepted a communicator from one and brought the slender device to her ear. The device had a specific frequency that keyed in to an external radio unit that would transmit to the nearest satellite undetected and then would bounce to another and another, until it could communicate with the only device in the world that could receive it. She may not have the knowledge to create technological sensations with the ease that she could manipulate biology and genetics, but she was not inept. Serafina would not be a prisoner in her own home.

"Zaranna."

'_Yo! Doc. What's up? Haha. What's up, Doc_.'

'Very amusing, Zaranna. Are you in position?'

"_Absolutely. And I gotta say, there are far worse jobs than this one_."

"Excellent. Expect there to be word within the next few days." She lowered the device without listening to the next words and handed it back to the creature at her side. He folded it up and tucked it into a hidden pocket of his coat.

Serpentor was not a man to be underestimated, but he was vastly underestimating Serafina. She always kept her promises to him, and she had promised him an army which were the best they could be, and they would be exactly that. But he had not asked them to be the best she could make.

Those, Serafina was keeping for herself.

She stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall to her laboratory. Once the door was locked, she entered a code into the security panel for one of the fridges. The doors popped open, revealing not a fridge, but a room. Once she and her two creatures were inside, the doors behind her were sealed and her ears popped when the pressure of the small chamber was equalized with the pressure of the room beyond. The wall before her segmented and pulled away with a pneumatic hiss, allowing her into the chilled, sterile air of the sealed environment beyond.

Serafina exhaled a quiet breath of awe as she beheld her work. Passing the Arctic Subject, which dominated almost the whole antechamber with a cylindrical holding chamber filled with fluid, she stepped toward the seven similar chambers that spanned the rear wall. Reaching up, she brushed the condensation from the glass to survey what was held within.

Looking over her shoulder, she pointed at a console attached to the chamber before her. 'Begin the psycho-imprinting.' One of her creations, Ecanus, moved toward the console obediently.

Serafina turned back to the tube as the creature within it began to twitch and spasm, its mind building memory links before it had ever even opened her eyes. Though Serafina grieved for the loss of Zephriel and the rest of her creations, she knew that they were prototypes, as did they. They were helping her work toward something better. Toward perfection. Toward the birth of those that were before her. The creatures behind her might be her creations, but those within the chambers were her children. They would be gods among men and the only thing standing between her and realizing that dream was the Joes, and they would not be there for long.

They believed they had gained the advantage by keeping that girl from Serafina's reach, but all they had done was taken the key to their destruction right into their heart.

**~}*{~**

_Thank you for reading chapter seven! Please leave a small review if you're able to. They improve my writing and let me know what you want to see._

_Love_

_Anne_


	9. Ch 8: Echoes off the Walls

**Warning**: Corbin's conscious, so coarse language galore.

**Note**: Chapter has been re-written.

**Last edit**: 9/10/11

**Chapter Eight**

_Echoes off the Walls_

**~}*{~**

'But his doom  
Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought  
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain  
Torments him…'

_Paradise Lost_, Book I, 53 - 56

**~}*{~**

Grammy Kaye said that nothing could be gained from sulking, that either you should do something, or if you could not, make something to do. But Corbin was sure that Grammy Kaye had never imagined her granddaughter would be in a situation like the one she found herself in.

_Sorry to disappoint, Grams_…

Katherine Bethany McQuinn née Buchannan had been a woman of action, a woman of strength, a woman of determination. Corbin had looked up to her more than any other force in her world, as had Jackie. Corbin just wished that she had more of Grandmother's reasoning and rationale. Most of it, however, seemed to have rubbed off on Jackie, leaving Corbin with just her fair share of stubbornness and pride. Both of which were aggravated by her current situation to a point where she thought she would either have a meltdown or the top of her head would just blow off. She wished she could pretend she was staying at some roadside motel, but her now firm grip on reality prevented her from escaping into denial. Perhaps it was punishing her for her previous stupid decisions. She couldn't blame it.

Corbin rolled over and dragged the blankets over her head, making a quiet sound of distress and despair. The bedding was not exactly uncomfortable, but it was nothing like the thousand-thread Egyptian cotton sheets that Corbin had spent far too much money on. Turns out that king-sized beds with posturepedic mattresses fitted with Egyptian cotton and satin, embroidered quilts were as close to sleeping on a cloud that a human could come whilst still in the mortal realm. But her bed was God knew how far away, now. Her home. Jackie.

_Fuck_.

Her new room was small, smaller than her bedroom in her apartment, but not tiny. Fourteen by twelve feet with a small, simple en suite with a shower, toilet and sink and a small robe. For the last two and a half days, it had been her world.

She missed wall hangings and posters of Deadpool and Heath Ledger playing the Joker, Predators, gothic faeries and grim reapers. Her rug with a white tiger on it. Her miscellaneous items like candles and pot plants, her collectables like movie figurines and accessories such as her great grandmother's ivory cameo, her wooden box of collected shells of the various beaches she had visited with Jackie, a rock illegally obtained from the Great Dividing Range and an equally illegally obtained piece of coral from the Great Barrier Reef. A Carnivale mask from the time she and Jackie went to Venice. Her closet insured for sixty thousand dollars. Fabric scraps, sewing designs, sketches, custom orders and everything she took home from work.

But this place… It was so alien, so sterile, so… not home.

Corbin sighed and pushed herself to sit up, resting her back against the wall. Looking down at her hand, she stroked her finger over the white gold band of her grandmother's wedding ring and silently begged Grammy Kaye for… something.

The answer came in the form of a knock on the door. "Corbin. Are you awake?"

_Thanks for nothing, Grams_.

Corbin sullenly slid down in her bed and dragged the blanket over her head, hoping Duke would go away. He didn't. Instead, he knocked again.

"Come on, Corbin. Come get something to eat. You have to be hungry by now."

Though Corbin mulishly thought that she wasn't, her stomach firmly disagreed and punched her in the lungs. When she tried to fight it down, it turned on her spine and started playing a merry tune of agony on her central nervous system. Curling up, Corbin swore quietly, wondering when she had gotten so pathetic as to starve herself so she wouldn't have to interact with anyone, but then again she was a person who would cut off her nose to spite her face…

But still-

The door opened and heavy boots crossed to Corbin's bed. She released the blankets just as they were pulled back.

"What the fuck?" she shouted, scooting away from Duke.

"Up and at 'em, Corbin," he said, grinning down at her. "Time to get some grub."

Corbin's stomach howled and she blushed, covering it with one hand. Duke's grin widened and Corbin narrowed her eyes up at him.

"You're lucky I'm not naked!" she snarled. As it was, she wore a pair of short shorts and a tank top, her usual sleeping gear. But, hell, naked would still have been better than a hospital gown.

"Yeah," drawled Duke. "Lucky me. Take as long as you want. I'll wait outside. As he turned, he shot over his shoulder, "Granted, I _was_ expecting you to sleep naked."

"Ass," she snapped when the door closed behind him, but she acknowledged the truth of his words. Ignoring the snarl of pain from her body as she forced it into sudden movement, Corbin grabbed her sheets, tossed them back and stepped out of bed. As her knee protested loudly to having weight placed upon it so abruptly, she glanced down at herself. Quickly, Corbin rearranged her priorities.

First, shower.

**~}*{~**

Exactly thirty-seven minutes later, Corbin stepped out of her room, armed and armoured. Her platemail was a simple collared shirt over a long sleeved shirt with thumb holes ripped in the sleeves, cargo pants with hundreds of pockets, two suspender belts hanging by her knees and a pair of shit kickers, all in black. Someone might think she was making an effort, but Corbin's costuming was a part of her natural appearance. She just wished that she had her wristbands. Her necklaces. More belts. Something. Anything to make herself feel more like… her. She didn't even have any different bars or earrings for her multiple ear piercings. The jarheads would probably think they were weapons of some sort. Or crass. She could only imagine what they would think had she kept all of the piercings she got when she was a teenager. She wished she had, if only to stick it to anyone that was looking down their noses at her already.

More importantly, though, her attire hid most of the damage to her body; the bruises, the bandages, the cuts and the abrasions. She did, however, have a few grazes on her knuckles and there were paper stitches and gauze covering the cut on her brow, but at least the worst was hidden.

Corbin hated that she was a walking bruise, but she was walking, and that's all that mattered. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she glared at Duke, who was standing against the opposite wall, one brow arched.

"You look like you've been dropped in a bucket of paint."

"Your jaw's a funny shape," she countered irritably. She knew she was being childish, but thankfully he just seemed amused by her words, rather than condescending of her behaviour.

"This, ma'am, is a _manly_ jaw."

"Apparently not enough man for you, though."

Duke grinned and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Mess is this way. There are probably a few others there, but they'll likely be pretty antisocial, too." He gestured to Corbin's left, his right, and she fell into step slightly behind him. "You're cleared to wander this area without supervision," he said as they walked. "There's the mess hall, a rec room and a small library for your use."

"That's it?"

"Guards will prohibit you from going anywhere that you shouldn't, so feel free to explore a little, I guess."

"You guess." Corbin was tracking the distance they travelled. They hadn't gone through any doors, just wound their way through open halls. Several passing men and women stopped to salute Duke and nod to Corbin, but no one attempted to speak to either of them.

"Don't worry, Corbin," said Duke over his shoulder as they approached a set of metal double doors. "People aren't going to jump down your throat if you accidentally wander in the wrong direction. Just don't try and do it deliberately."

"And if I do?"

"Let's just say that's inadvisable."

Corbin made a sour face. Then Duke was pushing the door open and Corbin entered something that looked like a stainless steel and concrete American high school cafeteria. She'd never been inside one, so she was just going off what she had seen in movies; row after row of long tables and long benches on either side, ten along and two deep, with a serving area along the left and back wall, ending at a utensils area on the right. Duke was correct when he said most people were missing; the entire place was devoid of life except for a single man with a balaclava over his face, cleaning two guns at one of the benches.

Corbin glanced at him as they passed, catching the nod he sent at Duke, and looking at Duke in time to see the two-fingered salute he shot back. Then they were standing before the serving counter.

"Roadblock."

A terrifyingly muscular man poked his head out of the kitchen area, his white teeth gleaming brightly against his dark skin. "Hey there, Ranger boy." He spoke with a thick Cockney accent. Duke jerked his chin up in greeting as 'Roadblock' turned his gaze to Corbin. She met his eyes levelly. "And you must be Corbin."

Instantly her eyes narrowed. "You've heard of me." It was a statement.

"We've all heard about our newest guest," said Roadblock as he vanished into the kitchen area. "Hungry?"

"Sure." Her response was offhand as she glared at Duke.

"Dossiers were handed out about you," said Duke. When he saw Corbin's eyes flash with rage, his hands flew up and he said quickly, "Only to appraise senior staff about your situation and reason for being on the base. They tend to like to be in the know."

Corbin looked away, eyes narrowed. _As if they're the only ones_.

"We definitely don't like surprises."

Corbin looked over her shoulder at the man wearing the balaclava, who was peering down the barrel of one of his guns. Judging it clean enough, he began piecing the weapon back together.

"I thought Roadblock told you to stop cleaning your guns at the dinner table, Beach." Duke tilted his head as he eyeballed the other man.

"He did."

"I did!"

Duke inclined his head toward the man, looking at Corbin. "This is Beach Head."

Beach Head nodded at Corbin and then returned to piecing his gun together. Corbin arched a brow. _Nice to meet you, too_.

"Here y'are."

Corbin looked over her shoulder and saw Roadblock sporting two plates, both holding porterhouse steak with mushroom sauce, a side of light salad with croutons on the top and a single roast potato, and with silverware already on the dish. Corbin blinked once. The salad and roast potato might have been too much; the steak was two thirds the size of the plate.

"Uh. Thanks…" At least that's what her mouth said. Her stomach was saying _Holy crap! Motherload_!

Duke grinned. "Oh, man, I knew waiting to eat with you would be good."

Roadblock made a face at Duke as he handed the larger portion to Corbin, who was still blinking at the food. "You told me that you were busy."

"I was. Waiting for good food." Duke draped his arm around Corbin's shoulders and guided her away from Roadblock, who just rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about Roadblock. He really loves cooking."

"He cooked this for me?"

"VIPs always eat better than anyone," said Beach Head as Duke put his plate down next to the balaclava-wearing man. He continued to clean his second gun as Corbin sat down opposite them.

"I'm a VIP?"

"Very," they both said at once.

"I see." Corbin picked up her knife and made a slice down the middle of the steak, examining the pinkened centre. Corbin was one of those people who liked her meat not to bleed on her plate and her usual, home-cooked fare was black and crispy. But she found that a lot of Americans preferred a bit of pink in the middle, and so she had to get used to it. People always peered at her weirdly whenever she asked for well, well, _well_ done meat.

Shrugging, she hacked off a bit of meat and stuffed it into her mouth. Another thing she had learned in America was proper table manners, but there was nothing quite like working a steak down to the bone, picking up that bone and gnawing every available portion of meat off of it.

They ate in a painfully uncomfortable silence until Duke broke it.

"You're chomping at the bit there, Corbin. Say it."

"I can't," she bit out, slicing a portion of her roast potato and spearing it with her fork. "Because you're going to spout some crap about it being confidential, about this being a top-secret, high-security program slash facility and that my involvement is too deep as it is, so it's best for me to just stay in my room and wait out the absolute ruination of my life without disturbing those around me. At which point I'd stab you with my fork." She bit down on the tines of the utensil in question and pulled the potato off with a certain amount of savagery.

Beach Head's eyes widened and he glanced at Duke, who was staring at Corbin, one brow arched.

Corbin swallowed the potato and stabbed the steak, hacking at it with her knife. "I hate this. I hate everything about this. But I can't _do_ anything about it. I just have to wait until _you_ do something about it. Which is driving me nuts."

"So how can we make this easier for you?"

Corbin looked up sharply at Beach Head. 'What?"

"I get that you're clawing at the walls," said Beach Head, folding his hands. "How can we make this easier for you?"

Corbin was momentarily thrown by his words, looking from Duke to Beach Head and back. Then she sighed and speared her steak uselessly with her fork, unless she decided to try gnawing at half of the thing in one go. She knew they were decent people, but she didn't want them to be. She wanted them to be pure evil bastards so she could hate them. As pathetic as that was, it'd be easier if she could hate them. But as it was…

"You can't," she muttered miserably. "I'm a civilian. A civilian under suspicion of terrorism, or being associated with terrorists. You can't trust me. You can't take that risk. So unless you can go back in time and make me go for coffee ten minutes later, there's nothing you can do. But then some other poor slob would just be in the same situation. Probably not giving you such a hard time about it, though." She smiled at them, but it was forced.

"Let's just say theoretically, then," said Duke after he had eaten a large portion of his steak. "If we did trust you."

"Theoretically?" When Duke nodded, she picked up some lettuce leaves, mopped up some of the dressing and slipped them between her lips. Licking her fingers, she took the time to think, chewed, swallowed and spoke. "Keep me involved. Let me know what's going on. Don't lock me in my room to wait. I just want to be in the loop."

'You're the one hiding in your room," pointed out Duke.

Corbin, hating to be shown a fallacy in her logic, slanted him a glare. "You know what I mean."

Duke smirked and nodded. "I'll talk to Hawk about it."

"But no promises, right?"

"No promises."

"Can I ask you a few questions, then?"

"Depends on what you ask."

Beach Head had remained silent for the last leg of the exchange, but at that he cleared his throat. Duke chewed on some meat and held up one hand in a way that Corbin was sure should have been interpreted as placating. Beach Head just glared at him. Not willing to let the opportunity slide, she spoke quickly.

"Alright. Let's play twenty questions. What is this group of yours called?" She cut another slice of meat and stuck it in her mouth, licking sauce from her bottom lip. "That's safe enough, right?"

Beach Head shook his head a little, and Corbin wasn't sure what that meant, as Duke answered. "We're called the G.I. Joes."

An American colloquialism. "But you're an international group, right? Lots of countries working together? Specialists, etcetera?"

Duke nodded. Beach Head was just watching Corbin. She ignored him as she tapped her fork on her plate. An international group of counter terrorism specialists… under an American name. And if Alpha Team, Beach Head and Hawk were any indication, it was American dominated. She wondered how the other countries felt about that.

"Where are we?"

"We can't tell you that," said Duke instantly.

"Alright. What is the size of this facility?"

"Big."

Corbin thumbed her fork in growing irritation. "Am I allowed to talk to people?"

"Sure. Whether they'll talk to you is another matter entirely."

"Am I still under suspicion?"

Duke hesitated.

"That's a yes," she sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. "You still think I'm a terrorist."

"To be honest, girl," said Beach Head, his Southern drawl thick, "whether or not you're a terrorist isn't the only reason we think you're a risk. As long as we are unable to confirm that you are _not_ a risk, you are one."

"Just because I'm here, I'm a risk?" Corbin was incredulous. "I didn't ask to be here!"

"We know that." Duke held out his hands in a placating manner. "What Beach Head means-"

"Don't tell me what I do and do not mean."

"What Beach Head means," stressed Duke, "it that this is a high security facility and you don't have clearance. That's all."

"Bull," she snarled, pointing at him. "I'm not stupid. You still think I'm either a terrorist, or somehow helping them, even if I don't know I am."

"And even if you are totally innocent, any information you get now could be tortured out of you later."

Corbin went white. "Torture?" She put her utensils down on her half finished meal, appetite evaporating like water spilled on a bitumen road in the middle of summer.

"Beach."

"She wants to know, let her know." Beach Head looked at Duke, then back at Corbin. Splaying his hands over the table, he leant forward slightly and stared at her. "Our enemies are sick and twisted, Corbin. They hate us, and they'll do anything to destroy us. Putting an innocent person on a base to gain our trust and then torturing her for information later is not something they are averse to, and not something that we haven't considered."

"Beach!"

Corbin leant backwards, eyes wide. "So, wh… what? Does this mean I might _never_ leave this base?"

Duke rubbed his buzz cut, glared at Beach Head, and then looked at Corbin. "If we judge the risk is too great to you. Or to us. At the very least you would be in protection."

"For the rest of my life?"

"It beats the alternatives, Corbin."

"The hell it does!" she shouted, shooting to her feet. "You're telling me that even if you solve this, I might never get to go home?"

Both men were silent, staring up at her.

"You fucking _assholes_!"

"Corbin…"

"Fuck you, Duke! And you. I've barely met you and you're already… whatever. Fuck you both!" She stepped out from behind the bench.

"Corbin!" Duke shot to his feet and she pointed at him, staggering back.

'Stay the fuck away from me. You don't even fucking get it, do you? You don't even fucking understand my situation!"

"We'll figure this out. We will."

"And you expect me to just sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs waiting for you to do that? It's my fucking life and it's in your hands! And in the hands of whoever it is that decided to ruin it. And now you're telling me that I might never even get to go home?"

"You still have your life," said Duke, almost pleading with her. "That's something."

"What life?" she cried, throwing her arms wide. Fisting one hand in her hair, she stepped back, and then spun away from him.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk. I'm allowed to do that, right? And I want to go _alone_." Turning, Corbin stormed from the mess hall. As the doors swung closed behind her, the sound of her steps accelerating into running filtered through the gap.

Duke sighed and sat down, staring at the remainder of his steak. Cutting off another section, he looked at Beach Head. "So. What do you think?"

Of all those people Beach Head had indicated did not like being in the dark, he was the most ornery of them all, so he had insisted on meeting Corbin the moment he got the dossier. Duke had told him to be in the mess after everyone had eaten and pretend it was coincidence. Of course, Beach Head had performed admirably.

Beach Head loaded a clip into his sidearm. "She has the potential to be trouble, but I believe it when she says she hates being here…"

"You think she's working with the terrorists?"

"Not knowingly. I think we can trust her."

"But?"

"But keep a very, very close eye on her," Beach Head said as he pulled the slide back and clicked on the safety. "If we decide to trust her, she could do a lot of damage."

Duke, took the remainder of the steak from Corbin's plate and dropped it on his own. "But if we don't, she'll probably murder us all in our sleep."

**~}*{~**

Corbin ran until she couldn't run any more, and then she walked until she was lost. She didn't even try going through any doors, didn't bother looking at anyone that she passed, until she found a stairwell. She slammed through the door and hurled it closed behind her. Backing up, she hit the wall behind her, staring at the door like she expected someone to come charging through it after her. Her ribs protested loudly, her knee whimpered quietly, and her lungs ached from her frantic exercise, but that was nothing compared to the searing agony in her chest.

Closing her eyes, she ground the heel of her hand into her left eye, fighting back tears of frustration.

_I fucking hate everything right now._

She didn't know how long she sat there fighting to catch her breath, with her eyes tightly closed, trying to block the world out childishly. But something made her drop her hand eventually. Something made her open her eyes. Though there was no noise, no indication that she was no longer alone, she turned to look at the stairs leading to the floor below her.

He was wearing a black shirt that contoured to his body like a second skin, leaving no doubt in Corbin's mind that there was, in fact, a magnificent body beneath it. As if there was any doubt to begin with. His face, as always, was completely concealed, but this time by a black cloth mask that covered his entire head. The holes by which he saw were stretched over the lenses of a pair of sunglasses he was obviously wearing beneath the cloth. All of that was thrown off by a grey camouflage sweater jacket draped over his shoulders, hanging open at the front, and a water bottle in his hand. Such a human, casual thing on the ninja master was… bizarre.

When he saw that she was looking, Snake Eyes' head cocked to the left.

Corbin shoved off the wall and grabbed the railing, determined to flee to the floor above. But a black-clad hand wrapped around her forearm, holding firmly but gently in place. Corbin lifted her arm, trying to yank free. The fingers tightened.

Baring her teeth, she turned to snarl over her shoulder, "_What_?"

Snake Eyes stared at her for a time, his eyes hidden as always. Then he jerked his chin up, and shook his head.

_So. I'm not allowed upstairs._

Corbin pulled free of him and circled around, determined to go to the lower floor.

Snake Eyes threw out his arm, blocking her path. She already knew that she couldn't budge him if he didn't want to move, and she wasn't fast enough to slip past him, or fit enough to get more than two steps. So she just stood there, glaring at him.

Snake Eyes lifted his other hand, offering the water bottle. The absurdity of the gesture threw Corbin for a moment, and she reached out and took it. As soon as her mind registered the water sloshing around inside, it allowed her to feel how thirsty she was.

"Thank you," she said, Grammy Kaye's teachings kicking in even now. She popped the top with her thumb, tilted her head back and squirted water into her mouth. Then she took another drink, when that one didn't quench her thirst.

For some reason, potentially giving him backwash felt absurdly rude.

He took the bottle from her, and then they were just left standing there, looking at each other.

"Can I go now?" she said.

Snake Eyes looked at the door she had come through, and then at her.

"Yeah," she snapped. "I'll go back to my room. Look at me. Returning to my room." She stomped toward the door, but again Snake Eyes stopped her. This time, though, he just put a hand on her shoulder.

Spinning, she flung his hand away, shouting, "_What_? What do you want? You wanna just stand in this stairway in awkward silence? You don't fucking speak, Snake Eyes! How the fuck am I supposed to know what you fucking want?"

Instantly Corbin regretted her words and she stepped back, looking away. Of all the people in the base, of all the Joes, Snake Eyes was the last one that she should be cruel to. But her knee-jerk reaction was to be just that, and it was too hard to undo sixteen years of programming. She tried to force out the apology, but instead there were only tears. Clenching her fists, she dropped her head, shoulders hunching.

_Damn it_.

Corbin covered her face with the backs of her hands. "You all think I'm being a little shit for being upset, but none of you get it. None of you understand."

Corbin's eyes snapped open when something touched her cheek, something warm and soft, and her eyes widened. She looked up at him, startled, as Snake Eyes' finger brushed under her eye, catching her tears. So startled was she that she stopped crying. She wiped the other side of her face with her hand, but before she could look away, Snake Eyes pointed at her, and then made a speaking movement with his hand. He then pointed at himself, then his head, then shook it.

_You said I don't understand._

He grasped her upper arms and squeezed. Then he patted his chest.

_Help me._

Corbin wanted to be angry at him. She wanted to rage and accuse him of spying on her, or going to tell Hawk. But with him holding on to her arm, looking down at her, all she wanted to do was lean in to his chest and hide. She gave a humiliating little hiccup, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

_I trust you_, she thought, staring up at him. _Please don't fuck me over. Please don't be like everyone else_.

As if she had heard his silent words, she whispered, "It's not fair."

Snake Eyes watched her as she fought to get more than those rasped words out, her shoulders hunching.

"Words of the fucking month, right? 'It's not fair'. But you guys don't get just how _not fair_ this is. You guys have national security, and international security, and world safety, and all that shit. What's one person's problems compared to that, right? Well guess what. In the grand scheme of things, your work means jack shit to me, and my problems are very fucking important."

It was like something inside her broke, and she just kept talking the words stumbling over one another as they fell from her mouth. "You think I'm being stupid for being so damn upset. I know you do. You… all of you. All you see is some spoiled, worthless brat who's kicking up a stink because she finds herself in a situation she doesn't like. But guess what? I'm not that fucking shallow, and the situation is a little bit more fucking serious for me! This is not a fucking vacation, Snake Eyes! My life doesn't fucking go on hold while you play fucking Cluedo with the world's criminals!'

Corbin turned to Snake Eyes, her face tight. "You have no idea what I had to crawl out of to get here, damn it. But I did. I crawled. And here I am. I am a drug-free, healthy, self-employed seamstress with _fourteen thousand dollars of debt_." Though Snake Eyes could see clearly through the lenses covering his eyes, Corbin could not. Regardless, her blue eyes found his with unerring accuracy, the tears still flowing down her cheeks. "The store I worked so fucking hard to open contains almost one hundred thousand dollars of stock, in clothing, shoes, jewellery, accessories and miscellaneous items of alternate fashion." She lifted her arms, clenched her fists, and threw them down, her voice raising further. "I have an established customer base both in person and online, both national and international. I have _sixteen thousand dollars_ of commissions lined up over the next six months. I fall behind on one, I fall behind on all of them. In two months I need to have finished work on a custom designed and fitted, hand-made wedding dress worth eight _thousand_ dollars alone. _Masquerade_ isn't just my store, Snake Eyes. It's my designing label, my business, my _life_."

Had she merely been raging at her situation, he would not have been able to sympathise with her. He would probably never would have. But now…

Snake Eyes just stood there as Corbin covered her face with her hands, shoulders heaving, trying to remember the last time he felt so helpless. Not since he cradled the body of the Hard Master in his arms, and watched Storm Shadow flee the murder scene.

Corbin's muffled words into her hands drew him from the memory into the present. "So I'm alive. Great. Wonderful." She dropped her hands after a useless gesture, hiccupping. "I'm alive and trapped here. And I should be grateful, right? My account makes automatic repayments of the loan for the store and my apartment, and will keep making payments until it's dry. Without those commissions, and without regular customers, in two months I am bankrupt, my business is bust, I will be homeless, and I will owe… hundreds of thousands of dollars."

Corbin lifted her head and glared at him. "So thanks a lot for saving me, Snake. Thanks to the Joes for taking me in and protecting me. And when this is over, you'll turf me onto the street, homeless, penniless and without a job. But that's not your problem right? You're the good guys. You save people's lives." She stepped around him and up the stairs. "Well, thanks. Thanks a fucking bun-"

Snake Eyes threw out his arm and grabbed her across the shoulders, holding her. Hissing, Corbin turned to him, her hand grabbing his forearm, prepared to throw it away. She stopped when she saw his head down, saw the tense line of his arm through his shirt, felt the fine tremble through his arm. Instantly her rage melted away, leaving her hollow and shaking. She looked away, dropping her own chin. Snake Eyes' arm fell away and they just stood there, next to one another, facing opposite directions.

Absurdly, she wanted to hug _him_, to comfort _him_. To tell him that it wasn't his fault.

And she knew it wasn't. But she was too selfish and wrapped up in her own grief to be of any use to anyone else.

"I'm not being stupid," she whispered. "I'm not. And I know that you did the right thing by saving me, Snake Eyes. That you and the Joes are doing what you think is right by me. But…" She shook her head slowly. "But what did you save, Snake Eyes?"

Behind his visor, Snake Eyes slammed his eyes closed.

"The clock isn't ticking, Snake. It's ticked. It's done. My life is over."Corbin's boots thudded on the stairs a she walked away from him, and Snake Eyes couldn't bring himself to turn. Couldn't bring himself to stop her.

Behind him, above her, Snake Eyes heard the stairwell door open.

"Corbin…! I – Oh. Snake Eyes. We-"

Snake Eyes turned in time to see Corbin shove past Duke and vanish through the doorway.

"Her mood hasn't improved, I see," said Duke quietly. Then he looked down at Snake Eyes. "I was sent by Hawk to find you. Everyone's been called to the CIC. Apparently Dr Rousseau is ready to give her preliminary report." The doctor that Doc had called upon to do the autopsies the day before. 'And I don't think it's good."

**~}*{~**

French-based Doctor Sophia Rousseau was often the person the Joes called upon when they found something that stumped all of their medical officers, which was rare considering they were always the crème de la crème. That alone was a testament to how excellent she was in her field, but it wasn't until her credentials were read out that one could appreciate the true scope of her expertise. She was a world-renowned expert in pathology, anthropology, forensic pathology, post-mortem examination, genetics, biology and biochemestry. The woman was, quite simply put, a medical genius specializing in the post-mortem.

She currently stood in the centre of the Pit's CIC, surrounded by every single Joes officer and all other personnel not currently tied up in duties. The holographic table was now used to show a healthy human body, stripped down to the nervous systems and bone structures. The screens behind her cycled through autopsy pictures, notations and evidence as she explained what she had found. Beside her stood Doc, who had conducted the autopsy with her.

Along with the two corpses from the docks, the man that had been killed in the alley had also been retrieved. There was nothing, at least not enough to be brought back for examination, left of the driver.

Snake Eyes stood on the floor of the debriefing room, his eyes moving from each of the displays of information, absorbing everything possible. He had been the last to arrive and Dr Rousseau had waited for him before beginning, which he greatly appreciated.

Little did he know how great that appreciation would become, nor the dread that would immediately follow.

"These men," said Rousseau in a heavy French accent, "are unlike anything ever seen in the history of medicine. If I could even begin to stretch my imagination that they might be natural, they defy anything that could be produced by the sheer chaos of evolution."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Major Hawk," her accent rendered the word, 'Awke', 'that they push the very limitations of 'human'." She turned to the screens beside her and went through her findings. "The alveoli of their lungs, where the oxygen is absorbed, operates to one hundred percent capacity. By comparison, a human in prime physical condition operates at below fifty percent capacity. Their red blood cells also held twice as much haemoglobin, meaning they could carry twice as much oxygen, meaning that all of the oxygen absorbed from their lungs is also _used_. Coupled with the fact that they have hearts like racehorses, it would explain why a four-hour-old wound on one looks to be about four days healed, which is also explained by a high platelet count, which would instantaneously clot all but the most severe wounds."

"But this one _was_ wounded severely," Scarlett pointed at the one that Snake Eyes had shot through the heart. "In fact, the wound was fatal."

"For a human being, _oui_, but this is no human being. This creature's heart is on the opposite side of his chest. And even though the sho pierced his lung, the wound repaired itself and the lung reinflated."

"That's… that's not possible," said Scarlett haltingly.

"That's the least of it," came Doc's terse voice from behind Dr Rousseau.

"You said before 'if they were natural occurrences'," said Duke. "Are you implying that they are not?"

She shook her head. "I am not implying. I am _saying_ that the physiology and biochemistry of these two bodies, from what I have found from a single, initial examination, post mortem, means that it is _impossible_ for them to be natural occurrences."

Snake Eyes' mind seized on those words and the implications, especially considering what his previous train of thought had been. His arms unfolded and he stepped forward, eyes widening behind his visor as his adrenaline twitched with shock. But it was Duke that spoke.

"You believe these are _created_ beings?"

"Wholly and completely," assured Rousseau, unaware of the effect her words were having on Snake Eyes and ever other Joe in the room. "I've managed to isolate a strand of DNA from all three men, as well as the samples brought back of the fourth." She tapped on the touch pad in her arm and brought up four DNA strands. They overlapped, showing to be almost identical.

"They're brothers?" asked Breaker.

"_Non_," the doctor turned back to them. "Traits that would be similar or identical in siblings are not apparent here. Identical twins results in a single egg splitting into two or more people, rendering the DNA exactly identical. As you can see, the DNA in these four is not identical. The best way I can describe it is that someone took a blank-slate DNA and grafted codes onto it."

"Grafted…" a brunette woman on a higher tier leaned forward, gripping the railing before her, her voice laced with a British accent. "They were genetically designed?"

"_Exactement_, _madamoiselle_ Jaye," said Rousseau, nodding at her. "These four men, for lack of a term that better describes them, are clones. Not identical clones. Each one is specifically designed and made, unique as much as a clone can be. Perhaps you could say they are different versions of the same man, with different alterations made. Regardless, though, they are for all intents and purposes vat-grown organisms."

"So they're… not human?" said a broad-shouldered man beside Lady Jaye.

"Without venturing into the realm of moral, ethical and philosophical discussion, _monsieur_ Flint, I can say no, they are not. Some of their genes aren't even human. It is almost like someone just took the best possible genetic predisposition, grafted them together and then poured them into a human mould."

"Wait," said Ripcord holding up one hand. "These are genetically engineered people… with, what? Animal DNA? This seems… beyond ridiculous."

Duke said without looking at him, "You're part of a super secret organisation that has access to the most advanced technology in the world. An organisation that technically does not exist and saves the world from evil."

"Point."

Rousseau turned to face Snake Eyes, who straightened. "You gave me permission to see your medical files, _monsieur_, and I am grateful for your trust. I also know that you fought not one of these men, but all three at a single time. I must say now, having reviewed your files and considering what I have discovered of these men… that you should be dead."

Snake Eyes' thought process came to a screaming halt in the form of a _What_…? Around him, everyone went utterly motionless, like the whole room was holding its breath or frozen with shock.

Sensing that she may have insulted the master ninja, Rousseau continued quickly, "I have not seen your military history, nor do I know of your skills beyond what I have been told, but I can honestly say that no skill or ability could have saved you against these men had they unleashed everything they were capable of upon you. They have twice as many adrenal glands. Their endorphins are three times as potent and are released at one point three times the quantity of a normal human's. Simply put, _monsieur_ Snake Eyes, if they feel pain, they do not do so for long." She looked around, and then back at Snake Eyes. "You have pushed your own body to its very limits, to the very boundaries of human capacity. But while you are toeing the line, they are looking at you from the other side."

The room had never been so still. There was not even a ripple of incredulity as the words were registered. Snake Eyes. Master Ninja. Master hand-to-hand combatant. A man who could do PT for an entire day, and then go and do a dozen kata seamlessly. With a broken leg. In a cast. And cracked ribs. Who could come out unscathed from situations that would kill other men and prepare to go at the next thing twice as hard. He may not be the best at everything, but whatever he wasn't the best at, he was damn freaking good. And he was totally and utterly outclassed. These creatures were genetically predisposed to be automatically better than he ever could be.

What chance did the rest of them have?

Snake Eyes' fists clenched. He knew the thoughts that had to be winging around his comrades' heads. They were winging around in his own. He was doomed to fail stopping the thefts from the moment these creatures had been created. He had been doomed to fail to protect Corbin before she had even been in danger. Failure without a chance of success.

He wasn't slipping, but that idea was far less reassuring than it should have been.

He was _inadequate_.

"Doctor," said Hawk slowly, drawing the doctor's worried gaze to him. "If they were capable of killing Snake Eyes, why didn't they?"

"I don't know." She took a deep breath and fidgeted with the data tablet in her hand, which she had been using during her report. Her eyes widened as she stared up at the holographic image of a human body before her. "I have _never_ seen anything like these creatures. Whoever did this is… leagues ahead of the rest of the world. I cannot even replicate what has been done in these men… But I can only tell you so much from their dead bodies. If you want to know more, you need to get one alive."

"We barely got these ones dead, Doctor," said Duke. "Alive might be a little bit beyond us, right now."

"Then I have nothing more for you."

Hawk sighed and rubbed his face. "To, it appears that we are even further out of our league than we thought."

"Whatever."

Everyone looked up at Beach Head as he shoved away from the railing, folding his arms over his chest.

"Whatever these things are, they're an enemy. They're endangering global stability and safety. The world's people. They are a force to be defeated, and goddamn it we will beat them into red smears."

"Yo Joes! Now that's what I like to hear!" said Heavy Duty.

There were a few nods. A few smiles. Slowly the room lifted.

"If these things haven't been beat before, it's because they haven't fought the Joes before." Duke smirked and folded his arms over his chest. "No offence, doctor, but Snake Eyes just proved that we can do the impossible. He should be dead, but he isn't, and these things should be undefeatable, but they won't be."

"Agreed," said Hawk. "Now we know what they are. Know their bodies. Their capabilities. We will gain the advantage back, boys and girls, and we will win."

As the room lightened, and chatter broke out, Snake Eyes stared at Doc and Rousseau, both of whom remained grim.

"There's something else."

Something in Rousseau's voice cut through the cheer and redirected everyone to her. She pulled up holographic images of joints and muscle of one of the corpses. "Stress signs on the bone and muscle development that took me a while to figure out the cause. When I did…" She swallowed hard and went silent.

"Now is not the time for suspenseful pauses, doctor Rousseau," said Hawk.

'Growth spurt," she said, swallowing. "These bones and muscles developed far, far too fast to be natural. The stress on their bodies was phenomenal. They would have to have been in _constant_ pain. But, if I were to venture a guess, from the damage done and the size of their bodies, I daresay thirty years of growth was compacted into four. Seamlessly."

Heads snapped up to stare at the floating holographic body in silence. They had looked to be well into their twenties, if not thirties, when they died. Could they really have been four years of age?

"I'm sorry, Hawk," said Rousseau. "I wish I had better news for you. But these things are built to be superior to humans in every way. If they have not beaten you yet, it is either because they do not know how… or they do not want to. And these men? These… inhumanly strong men who can endure an astonishing amount of damage and heal it superhumanly fast? These men are fast grown. If these men are mass-produced, there is not an army in the world that would survive in close-quarters combat with them. And if they should ever learn how to utilize the bodies they are given to their full potential…" Rousseau looked up at the holograms. "_Dieu nous aide tous_."

Snake Eyes felt like sitting down, and he saw from the corner of his eye more than a few Joes do exactly that. He understood Rousseau's final words on a soul-deep level as he lowered his head, eyes wide behind his visor.

_God help us all_.

**~}*{~**


	10. Ch:9 Beyond My Reach

**Warning**: Coarse language. Duh.

**Writer's note:** For those of you reading this as an update, you MUST to go back and read at least the last three chapters, because they have all been rewritten.

**Dedication:** To all the reviewers, fans and a few messages that kicked me in the ass for an update. This is for you.

And, of course, to Zeistrijder, without whom my chapters would never be half as good.

**Chapter 9**

_Beyond My Reach_

**~}*{~**

'...Now conscience wakes despair  
That slumbered…'

~ _Paradise Lost_, Book IV, 23 - 24

**~}*{~**

**New York City**

**Bellevue Hospital Centre**

"What… do you mean -"

"You know what I meant."

"But…" Theagan stared at the bed before her, eyes wide with horror. The shock of what had been said sliced them all deep. "But… when you say 'don't come back', do you mean –"

"Ever. I mean ever."

"Fuck that noise." Ankle boots stormed across the floor and Mac grabbed the edge of the hospital bed, shaking it hard. "We're not fucking going anywhere, Jackie, damn it."

Jackie-Lynn didn't look away from the window on the opposite side of the room to her visitors. Her hands were folded demurely in her lap, and she looked so out of place in the pale pastels of the hospital's clothes. She didn't seem to care that her friends were ringed around her in varying stages of outrage and grief. She didn't care that they had threatened to burn down the hospital and kill everyone inside if they weren't allowed to see her.

They just cared that she had told them to get the fuck out of her room the moment they had come in.

And not come back.

"What happened to you?" asked Mac, for what had to be the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. "And where is Corbin?"

"Go away, Mac." Jackie closed her eyes.

"No, damn it. _No_." Mac leant further over the bed, eyes wide. "Tell me-"

"Get. Out."

"Damn it Jackie! Just fucking _talk to us_!"

The scream rang out through the thin panelling of the door, which slid open instantly. The buzz-cut guard that was standing outside narrowed his eyes as he located the source of the noise.

"Ma'am, I allowed you into this room under the condition that you let her rest. If you continue to shout, I will remove you." Broad-shouldered and obviously taking his job seriously, he was quite intimidating with his low rumble.

"They need to leave, James."

The guard appeared surprised by this, but only for a moment. Then he nodded. "I'll remove them."

"Don't fucking _touch_ me!" Mac whirled toward him, even though Corporal Hensleigh hadn't made a single move into the room. "Don't come near me. I want to know what happened to my friend, damn it! I want to know where…" Mac paused, and then she pointed at him. "You know, don't you? You know what happened? You know where she is! You know why Jackie's in the fucking hospital!"

"Mac," said Paige, reaching toward her.

Mac slapped at Paige's grip, and the woman recoiled, eyes wide.

"Tell me. Tell me where she is!"

"Mac!" shouted Theagan.

"I want to kn-"

"I don't know where she is."

Everyone stopped, and then tuned to Jackie. She had finally turned from the window, and her eyes were fixed on Mac's. Rather than being clouded by drugs or pain, they were steely bright and cold as ice.

"James. Give us fifteen minutes."

The soldier hesitated, and then closed the door.

"_I_ don't know where she is," said Jackie again. "So what makes you think you deserve to know?"

An IV bung was in the back of her hand, but it was no longer connected to anything. Now the IV fed directly into the crook of her right arm, which was heavily bandaged and resting over her chest. Jackie's face was a mass of bruising and small marks, and though she was covered from the neck down in a soft black night gown, every movement was tender.

Theagan had caught a glimpse of the chart before the nurse had whisked it away.

Jackie might not be showing it, but she was recovering from major, life-saving surgery, and had only awakened from her medically induced coma six hours past. She had declined, apparently, to contact her friends, and it was only when Jackie's editor contacted Theagan to demand an explanation as to why his prize breadwinner was in the hospital that they found out what had happened to her.

Everyone had known something was off during the all-girl's lunch, but only then did Theagan begin to grasp the real threat Corbin had been in.

"Jackie. Patrick has contacts," Theagan said quietly. "We can help."

Jackie shook her head and held up her hand, wincing slightly at the movement. "I don't want to hear it. You want to help? Get out."

"How the FUCK does that help?" shouted Mac.

"Is she safe, at least?"

Everyone glanced at Paige, who had her hands clasped in front of her face, staring at Jackie. She was almost mousey, with blonde hair, a small nose and freckles. Completely out of place, with such a loud, demonstrative group, but somehow she fit in. Perhaps because she was the quiet voice of reason that would otherwise be drowned out in the minds of the others.

Jackie's lashes lowered as she glanced down, but didn't close her eyes. "She's as safe as she can be."

"This is fucking bull!" spat Mac, reaching out to grab Jackie's arm. Before she did, though, she seemed to remember how injured Jackie was, and stopped. "Why the fuck do you get to know stuff and we don't? We're Corbin's friends too, Jackie! Just because you've given up on her doesn't-"

Jackie's arm snapped up and her fingers coiled in Mac's shirt. Though her face went white with pain, Jackie dragged her closer, lifting herself enough so she could whisper, "You will not finish that sentence." Mac, wisely, didn't fight as Jackie's fist tightened, her entire arm shaking. "Don't you dare question my loyalty to Corbin again. Don't you _ever_ even suggest that I don't love her. I am her _best fucking friend_. We've been through _everything_ together. And if I know nothing, what the hell makes you think _you_ deserve to?"

In an amazing display of strength for someone so injured, Jackie yanked Mac down so their noses were almost touching.

"So you get the _fuck_ out of my room, or you'll be bunking in the one next door. _Forever_."

Jackie shoved Mac away, and the woman stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide.

"All of you." Jackie passed them a look filled with disgust, before finally turning back to the window. "Get. The. Fuck. Out."

Mac snapped her mouth closed, tears in her eyes. Then she turned and slammed from the room. Paige rose to her feet, staring at Jackie. Then, without a word, she rushed out after Mac, with a hurried explanation that she would drive Mac home.

"Jackie."

"Is your pregnancy making you hard of hearing, Theagan? Get out. Just get out. Get the fuck out and don't come back, damn it!"

Something in Jackie's voice made Theagan's expression of incredulity fade to grief. Was it the despair she heard? Or the desperation?

Or the raw, stark fear?

"You were caught in an explosion. Not close enough that you were turned into a pink mist, or had your hearing permanently damaged, but enough to catch you in the shrapnel blast."

Both women looked at Patrick. Until that moment, Theagan's husband had been standing, silent and forgotten, against the wall beside the door. Now he pushed off and walked to the end of the bed, bracing his hands on the railing. Normally Patrick looked the picture of nonchalance, a small, carefree smile on his face, a distant expression to his eyes, and enough bag to his clothes to hide his physique. A perfect mocha blend of Caucasian and Latino that made him look permanently tanned. His shoulders were broad, and his dark hair just below shoulder length and drawn back in a roguish ponytail, something he wore ever since his wife idly mentioned she liked men with longer hair. He had a few scars on his handsome face, but they could have come from anything.

Jackie and Theagan both knew, though, that beneath his motorcycle jacket was a small armoury of weaponry. Most of them completely concealed.

"Explosions like that aren't by accident, Jackie. And Corbin's gone. And you're not freaking out and demanding the police, the FBI and the National Guard be mobilized in finding her. Which means that you think she's with the 'good guys'. The military, given the _soldier_ outside."

Patrick's handsome face also hid a mind keenly honed by years of hunting dangerous men who did not want to be found, and were willing to kill to protect themselves. Jackie stared at him, her face a mask of bruised, battered neutrality.

"Does this have to do with the hostage situation?"

Jackie nodded once. 'I think so.'

"But you can't tell us what's happening. Or what's involved. Because they'll come after us."

"Yes."

"Because Corbin loves us."

Jackie said nothing to that. What was there to say at that."

Theagan put her hand on her rounded belly, covering her child growing inside. "Corbin would never,  
ever put us in danger." She looked up at her husband. "She wouldn't."

"If she thought giving herself up would keep us safe, she'd do it in a heartbeat." Patrick looked at his wife, but it was Jackie that spoke next.

"Why do you think she left in the first place?" Her words were filled with bitterness, and she was glaring at the wall beside her.

"There has to be _something_ we can do…"

"We have to go."

"What?" Theagan spun to her husband, then to Jackie. "No. _No_. We are not leaving you alone, Jackie. I don't give a damn who's coming after you or what they want or-"

"Neither of you can speak to me again."

"Are you _listening to me_?"

"Goodbye, Theagan." To her credit, Jackie's voice didn't break or quiver.

"JACKIE!"

"Corporal Hensleigh!"

The door was open an instant later.

"Please show the-"

With as much dignity as Theagan could muster, she shoved herself to her feet and stared at Jackie, eyes narrowed.

"I am not _leaving_ you alone."

Jackie didn't look at her.

Patrick intervened. He wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders and pulled her away. As Theagan swore up and down that they would be back tomorrow, Patrick and the soldier exchanged a glance over her head.

They would not be back.

Corporal Hensleigh stood to one side as they left.

"Will that be all, ma'am?"

"Please."

The door closed. Jackie waited for a minute, and then slammed her head back into the pillow. Her stitches pulled, both external and internal, and agony speared through her body. Rolling onto her side, she drew back her fist and punched her pillow over and over, until she was gasping from pain and exertion. In truth, it hadn't been hard not to tell the others anything. Jackie was too consumed with rage at her own helplessness to even think of anything beyond it. Mac's outrage had just added fuel to the fire.

_How the fuck dare she…_ Jackie clenched her fists in the bedding. _She doesn't know anything_.

Corbin had taken a lot of licks through her life, and no matter how badly beaten she was, she always got back up and kept right on swinging. However, this wasn't because she was strong. She was stubborn to the point of stupidity. To the point that Corbin hadn't even realised how much danger she put everyone in with her wilful pride.

Only now did Jackie realise that, in growing up for Corbin and trying to protect her, she had never allowed Corbin to actually grow up. She was still that hot-headed fourteen year old girl wiping blood from her nose. Whenever she got in over her head, Jackie had pulled her out. Whenever she needed help, a place to live, a lap to cry on, money, Jackie had provided it.

Now Corbin had none of that. Jackie might be alone, but Corbin was surrounded by strangers and people she didn't trust. People she had to depend on. People who had seen and perhaps done terrible things. People who lived their lives for others. Who saw the big picture. Every one's big picture. People who likely wouldn't put up with Corbin's moods, or her prickly nature, or her stubborn determination to keep everyone at arm's length so they didn't hurt her. People who didn't understand Corbin, and had no reason to.

Sighing, Jackie closed her eyes.

"You motherfuckers are doing my job, now." She opened her eyes. "Please do it better than I did."

Jackie stared out the window. It was time for Corbin to finally grow up and find out who she was _without_ Jackie.

Jackie just hoped, deep down, that when it was all over, Corbin would still have room in her life for her.

**~}*{~**

**The Pit**

"She's awake?"

Duke nodded.

"Thank Christ…"

Corbin sagged back against the wall behind her, going weak at the knees. The two of them were standing in the hall, Duke having stopped Corbin as she wandered around apparently aimlessly.

'Whoa there.' Duke reached out to Corbin, but she waved him away. When he was sure she wasn't going to fall, he smiled and said, 'From the look of it, she's going to make a full recovery, too.'

Corbin put her hands to her face and fought back the urge to just throw up. Jackie was awake. She was going to be fine. Corbin lifted her head, looking up at Duke with wide eyes. "Can you get a message to her?"

Duke pursed his lips.

Instantly Corbin's relieved demeanour changed. Fuck! She was so close! And they were just going to naysay her like that? "Are you fucking serious? You think she's going to slip me secret instructions in code or some bullshit? Come on, Duke, I just want to talk to her!"

"We don't think that," said Duke. "But the more contact you have with her, the more danger she's in. Corbin. We don't think you're cooperating with any terrorists, thieves or bad guys. But the threat still exists. Please, trust us."

Trust. _How casually that word is thrown around_. Corbin scowled and looked off to one side._ You don't have any idea how hard it actually is for me to do that_.

"Where were you going, anyway? Your room is that way." When Corbin cut him a glare, Duke lifted his hands. "Would you relax? I was just wondering if you were headed to the rec room and got lost."

"I'm going to the lower floor."

"… Why?"

Corbin rounded on Duke, prepared to tell him to get stuffed. But then she snapped her mouth closed and sighed. "I'm looking for Snake Eyes."

She watched his reaction, but rather than a wink-wink nudge-nudge that she expected, the playful ribbing that she thought might come with it, Duke's brows drew together and his face grew sombre.

"Why?"

"I intend to rip his clothes off and ravish him out of his ninja master senses," purred Corbin. Then she scoffed. "Seriously. What do you think? I want to talk to him."

"He doesn't _talk_, Corbin. He doesn't do anything except fight and train."

"Please don't tell me that's all you think he does. Even ninjas go to the damn bathroom."

"I don't mean that, and you know it," retorted Duke, scowling. "He's got a wicked sense of humour, and he can bounce back from anything. He loves a challenge. I like the guy. He's my friend. But that means I know the mood he's in, and it's not a socialising one. I just came from the gym. He's been hitting the bags all night from the look of it."

"All night?" asked Corbin, eyes wide.

Duke shrugged. "We have two bags in there for him. One's attached to the wall and the other's chained to the floor and ceiling. I wouldn't be surprised if he was at it all night. He's done it before." Duke murmured into his collar, "He was kinda pissed after yesterday, though."

Corbin felt her stomach drop. _Pissed at me_? "Where is he?"

"You still want to talk to him? I just said he's pissed."

"So?" Corbin seemed genuinely confused, and Duke just stared at her. Did she not comprehend that she wanted to hunt down an antisocial ninja when he was feeling particularly inclined toward the 'I don't want company' mood? And pissed off, to boot?

Without letting any of his thoughts stray onto his face, Duke said, "He has a private dojo on the floor below us, but people don't really go there. It's a training room he sort of took for himself. His room's through it. He's probably there."

"Where is it? I don't want to walk through any of the wrong doors."

Duke just stared at Corbin, and she stared back, fighting the urge to stomp her boot in frustration. Corbin's jet lag meant she was wide awake at the Pit's equivalent of six am. Already, though, there was a decent amount of bustle, and every now and again a Joes personnel walked past them. Some of them were wearing the cold colour camouflage that seemed to be the uniform, a flag on their shoulder denoting their country of allegiance.

"Why do you want to see him?" Now she recognized the hesitance. Now she understood Duke's reluctance. But why the hell would Duke be protective of _Snake Eyes_?

Corbin folded her arms over her chest. "Because he may not _speak_, but he can still _talk_, and he's the only one I want to talk _to_."

"You are exceedingly stubborn," said Duke quietly. Then he jerked his thumb down the hall. "Go to the stairwell I found you at yesterday. Go down one floor. Hang an immediate left, then take the second right. His door is the sliding paper screen at the end of the hall."

Corbin gave Duke a small smile. "Thanks."

Duke watched her walk away, rubbing his five o'clock shadow with a quiet hum of contemplation. He was not the only one that noticed how fond of Snake Eyes that Corbin was. Then again, most new females to the Pit found the enigmatic ninja master attractive. He was mysterious and apparently unattainable, a deadly combination, especially when his silence was added to the mix.

But Duke couldn't remember when one of those women stared up at him with such determination, or fire, or sheer stubbornness when she declared that she was going to hold a conversation with a man who did not speak.

_Oh, boy, Snake Eyes. Do you even know what you're in for_?

'What are you smirking about?'

Duke glanced over his shoulder as Scarlett and Ripcord approached. Though their brief interlude had soured, the two were able to maintain a cool professional camaraderie that was warming with each day. By half a degree, but still warming.

"Oh, nothing," said Duke, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Just wondering if our ninja master will finally find out what it feels like to be completely and utterly beat."

As the other two shared a confused look, Duke wandered away between them, whistling .

**~}*{~**

Snake Eyes stopped halfway through his kata, frozen in place.

He was off centre by almost an entire foot, misaligned with the room's dimensions. Expelling a harsh breath, he dropped his stance and stood straight, staring at the tokonoma1 at the other end of the room. He didn't want to admit it, but his muscles were twitching, his brain was becoming hazy, and he could no longer control his breathing. That, combined with the fact that the familiar kata he had done almost every single day of his life was off by an entire foot to the left meant that he could no longer deny that he was utterly exhausted.

Snake Eyes reached up and grabbed the back of the cloth that shielded his face, ripping it from his head. His visor bounced away as he wiped the back of his arm across his brow and walked to the clan symbol, wondering what his Master would say now. What was there to say, when everything Snake Eyes was, everything he strived to be, would always be outdone by a creature that was simply designed to be better than him.

Snake closed his eyes and sank to his knees before the tokonoma, his head down. He braced his fists on his thighs and drew in a deep breath of the incense that was fading from the air.

Unlike his room, which was removed from the dojo via two black fusuma2 doors to his left, the alcove was a part of the dojo, a part of his martial art, a part of his life. It was the first thing he saw when he opened the fusuma directly beyond the paper screen that served as the door to his dojo. It was the last thing he saw when he closed them behind him to go on a mission.

As was the Arashikage hexagram that hung in it.

The storeroom that Snake Eyes had repurposed for his own ends was, in fact, three rooms. The main had become his dojo, a massive square room with a high, well ventilated ceiling. The three walls that did not hold the tokonoma had fusuma, one set for his bedroom to his left, another for the antechamber leading into his dojo directly behind him. To his right were the fusuma that lead directly to his personal armoury.

When Snake Eyes had created the tokonoma, he had debated making it a tamaya3 to the Hard Master, but had rationalised that it was not right for him to mourn a single master in lieu of honouring the entire clan. But now he needed his Master more than ever.

Snake Eyes closed his eyes as he bowed his head, placing his palms and forearms on the mats before him.

When his restlessness and outrage at the Hard Master's death had become too much, Snake Eyes had left the Arashikage, before he had even been twenty years old. He had gone to seek his own destiny in the world, but it wasn't until he met the Joes that he felt he might have discovered it. Even though it still felt like something was missing, even though it wasn't the belonging he thought he wanted, it was the closest to the Arashikage dojo that he could imagine without actually returning to it.

He lifted his head and stared at the symbol. He drew on his strength, his spirit. Snake Eyes might have been a member of the Joes, but at his heart he was _Hebi no Me_, child of the Arashikage.

_Master._ _I cannot turn to you as I once did. I cannot seek you for answers. And so I have always sought my own_. _But I need guidance now. I have encountered an enemy that is… made to be better than I. That is designed to be more than I can be. I have failed every time to defeat these creatures._

Lifting his head, but not looking up, Snake Eyes opened his eyes slowly, staring at his gloved hands, knowing each of the scars that the black fabric hid.

_What can I do? How do I protect… _Corbin's face swam into his mind's eye and he slammed his lids closed again. _What__ do I do_?

Silence greeted him. There were no stern words from the Hard Master. No advice from the Soft Master. Nor any of the other Masters.

Was he truly alone this time?

Lifting his head to the hexagram, his eyes picking out the familiar symbols of fire and water of the I Ching, Snake Eyes's brows drew together as he thought, _What am I to do_?

There was silence again. This time with a single difference.

Snake Eyes rose to his knees, and then to his feet.

Someone was at his door.

**~}*{~**

Corbin was spared the dilemma of how she could possibly knock on a sliding paper screen door (Jackie was going to be _infuriated_ that she didn't recall the name) when they parted neatly, showing Snake Eyes standing on the other side. He was out of his combat gear, wearing that black, long-sleeved shirt again, black gloves on his hands, a black mask over his face. This time, though, he wore the visor instead of his sunglasses.

Corbin's mouth opened, and then snapped closed.

_What am I supposed to say now_? _Hey Snake! Can I come in? Have a nice tea ceremony with you? Sorry if I'm barging in with my stupid Western arrogance. Oh, look. A katana_!

Corbin's face closed down and she backed away.

"You know what? Never mind. It was stupid."

When she turned, something brushed her arm and she looked over her shoulder to see Snake Eyes had reached toward her. He tilted his head slightly, a wordless question.

"It was stupid," she said again, turning to face him. "You're probably busy."

He shook his head.

"Or, you know. Training someone."

He shook his head again.

"Or not want company."

He didn't shake his head this time. Instead, he lowered his chin slightly.

_Aha_! Corbin thought. _Escape_! But why did her victory feel so… hollow?

And then Snake Eyes stepped to the side and gestured for her to come in. Corbin stared beyond him, at the closed sliding doors that rested a single step above the matted floor. Her eyes tracked to Snake Eyes, who had lowered his arm, but hadn't moved. Then, with a sigh like he was asking her to do something terribly difficult, she stepped inside.

Snake Eyes shook his head as he closed the shōji4 behind her, a small smile on his lips at her reaction to his invitation. Should he be irritated that she had made it sound like it was such a task to do something she obviously wanted to do?

More importantly, where had his rage and frustration gone the moment he opened the door and saw who it was? He thought it might be Duke, checking on him, or Beach Head, since the two of them had stumbled on him trying to kill the canvas bags in the gym. Or perhaps Psych-Out, the Pit's one and only psychiatric professional, trying to coerce him into talking. As much as Snake Eyes talked.

Or Doc.

Or Hawk.

Or Scarlett…

Snake Eyes glanced at the door, wondering if he would have invited Scarlett in. Yes, he surmised. He would have invited her in.

But he probably wouldn't have wanted to talk to her, or ask how she was doing, or make sure she was alright.

In a way, Corbin coming to call was also a means for Snake Eyes to check on her in turn. He watched Corbin step toward the fusuma that would lead to his dojo. Then she turned and planted her backside on it, hiked up her cargo pants and started tugging the laces of her Converse All Stars until she could get them off. He noticed that she hadn't tied them up. She'd just stuffed the laces into her ankle.

Snake Eyes stepped toward her and pointed at the shoes.

Corbin glanced up. "Japanese households don't wear shoes inside, right?" She jerked her chin at his feet, which were bare under his gi pants. She did a small double-take when she really saw them, though, but she hid it well and had Snake Eyes not been watching her face, he might have missed it. She then inclined her head at the shelf where he had his shoes stored, recovering. "Gotta say, much neater than my closet." She pulled off first one Converse, than the other, setting them on the floor.

They were the same ones that she had been wearing at the stairwell, and Snake Eyes crouched down and tapped the symbol on the toe.

"Deadpool Converses," she said with a proud grin. "Limited edition. Two hundred dollars a shoe."

Four hundred dollars for a pair of Converses? Snake looked at her, hoping his skepticism was translated through his body movements. It was.

She picked one up and showed him the writing on the side. "They came out after the Marvel movie adaptation fad. Deadpool has some awesome quotes, and each shoe has a unique set of quotes in his little yellow boxes. No two pairs are the same." She gave him a child-like grin of glee. "I have three pairs. One of them has my favorite quote on it, so they're still in their box. Never to be worn."

To see someone take such joy in something so simple – and yet ridiculously expensive – as collecting shoes was beyond his comprehension, but considering it gave her such joy, he decided it was perfectly acceptable. Snake Eyes rose to his feet fluidly and tilted his head down at her, seeing that she was wearing odd socks.

"Do I have to take these off?"

He shook his head.

"Alright." She stood and looked at the door. "Do I go first, or do you?"

Snake Eyes stepped up to his dojo and opened the fusuma doors, permitting her inside. Rather than step forward, though, Corbin froze and stared.

"I feel… like I just stepped back in time."

Snake Eyes glanced at the dojo, then at Corbin. It was well lit by artificial lighting from above, muted to simulate sunlight. The room was warm, and scented pleasantly of sandalwood and tea. It wasn't as open as he would have liked it, but being underground in Egypt had its limitations.

As it was, he was glad that he had such a spacious location to himself.

"This is, like, a true blue dojo. From Japan." She tentatively stepped into the area and looked around. Then she looked at him, eyes wide. "Are you Japanese?"

Snake Eyes hesitated, not sure how to explain it to her. Opting for the simplest answer, he simply nodded.

"It must suck to be here, then," she said. "You can't even sign in your own language." She turned her attention to the tokonoma, and Snake Eyes found himself waiting as she gazed at the Arashikage hexagram. Obviously she discerned it was important to him, but from the slight curl of her brow, he knew that she wasn't sure what the tokonoma was. Traditionally, it was simply an alcove for art and decoration, since the Japanese did not hang portraits like the Western societies did. In this area an art scroll would hang from the wall, perhaps with a flower arrangement and item of decoration. The rest of the room would be kept in order, neat and clean, with perhaps a screen to one side and a kotatsu5 or tea section.

"What…" Corbin trailed off, obviously debating whether or not she should ask.

Snake Eyes waited behind her. She had only taken two steps into the dojo, not even clearing the wooden floorboards and hitting the vinyl mats. Blinking, once, she looked over her shoulder at Snake Eyes.

"What are you doing here, Snake? Who are you?"

Snake Eyes lowered his chin slightly, saying nothing. Something in her eyes flickered and she looked at the hexagram, then back at him. Snake Eyes moved past her and toward the Arashikage symbol, examining the familiar lines. Without realizing, he was tracing the same lines on his arm, and he dropped his hand away. Perhaps her arrival simply was coincidence, and not a message after all. Or perhaps, even from the grave, the Hard Master had a twisted sense of humor.

"I don't want to bother you," she said quietly. "And I don't… know how to communicate with you. So I guess I'm just going to go."

Snake Eyes turned and raised his hand, then he headed through the fusuma into his private room. When he returned, Corbin was exactly where he had left her, looking awkward and out of place.

He held up a pen and notepad.

"You're kidding," she said, expression going flat. 'You have that handy?"

Snake Eyes wrote, and she approached him to read over his shoulder. _It's necessary, sometimes_.

"Goddamn you have absurdly neat writing," she said. "But I guess charades is only so much fun, right?" She amended, wobbling one hand, "A little bit more when inebriated, but not much. Kinda like Pictionary; you eventually get fed up with playing by the rules and spend the evening humiliating yourself in every way possible."

When his head didn't move from staring at her, she arched a brow.

"I take it you've never played Pictionary?"

He shook his head.

"Scrabble?"

Shake.

"Monopoly?"

Another shake.

"Please tell me you've played Twister."

Slow shake.

Corbin mouthed, 'Wow', and said, "Here's a deal, Snake Eyes. You teach me sign language, and I teach you the finer points of inebriated family games. Uh. Except for Twister. Somehow I envision playing that game with a ninja is a recipe for getting your ass kicked. Unless!" She lifted a finger, brows arching, and Snake Eyes' head went back a little. "It's naked Twister. Which is better with only two people. Though it does make spinning the board a tad hard. Dear God please stop me…"

Snake Eyes gave a brief, silent chuckle.

"Holy shit," she said, pointing at him. "Did you just laugh? Are you allowed to laugh?"

Snake Eyes tilted his head toward her sarcastically, and she smiled back at him, although inside Corbin didn't know if she was impressed or saddened that even his laughter was silent. She wondered what his voice sounded like. She wondered what his laugh sounded like.

She wondered if he was silent by choice.

Snake Eyes slowly sat down on the mats. Corbin knelt down beside him, a surprisingly smooth movement that simply had her folding her legs beneath her and resting comfortably on her knees.

"Well how about that," she said, tilting her head. "You are human under all that."

Snake Eyes cocked his head.

Corbin raised her hands and looked away. "Sorry, Ninjaman, but your amazing feats, to us mere mortals, are somewhat superhuman android-ish. It's hard to believe you're flesh and blood under all that."

Snake Eyes was definitely flesh and blood. He was still aching and exhausted from his training. His knuckles burned from where he had broken the calluses open against the canvas, and that was not easy to do. He was a scarred man.

Both inside and out.

_What happened yesterday_?

Instantly Corbin's face closed down and she looked away. Snake Eyes reached out and placed his hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Then he wrote, _You don't have to tell me._

Corbin stared at the page for a while. "I just… got angry."

_Why_?

"What's the sign language thing for why?" she asked him.

He made it, and she mimicked it with her hands. When she got something wrong, he changed the shape of her fingers. When she finally got it, Corbin sat back, stretching one leg out in front of her, bending the other over it, and sighed.

"I'm bad at talking about… shit I feel." She looked away. "Jackie just seemed to _know_, you know? She just knew me, and could… do it for me but now she's gone, and I don't know how to do it myself." She sighed and looked at him. 'Look. I'm sorry for what I said and did in the stairs, alright? You didn't deserve that." Mulishly, she buried her fists in her knees and said into her chest. "And I don't apologise a lot. So just… appreciate that."

Snake Eyes slid he page into her sight. _You've apologised a lot in the last two weeks_.

Corbin made a sound of derision and turned away. "I've made more mistakes in the last two weeks than I have in the last five fucking years. I mean, how often does a normal person encounter secret military organisations? And terrorists?"

Snake Eyes tilted his head and tapped her with the notepad. _I didn't mean to be cruel_.

"I…" She cut off the shout, expelled a breath and closed her eyes. "I know. You were just being honest. I do like it when people are honest."

Which would explain why she hated not being told everything.

Snake Eyes showed her the page again. _You are often dishonest, Corbin_.

She narrowed her eyes at the page, and then just glared up at him.

He made the sign for 'why'.

Corbin sighed and closed her eyes. For a long time she just sat there in silence, and Snake Eyes patiently waited for her to speak, as he knew she would. "When I was a kid… admitting when I was hurt, or upset, or something was admitting that I was weak, or vulnerable. With the people I ran with, that wasn't a good thing. People would take advantage of that. So I just lied." She opened her eyes. "After a while, I just got really good at it."

Snake Eyes just sat there, staring at her in his customary silence, though now he couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to. He was left wondering what kind of a life Corbin had lead that she couldn't show weakness. She wasn't a ninja, she hadn't been trained. She'd grown up in suburban Australia. Hardly a hostile environment.

Then again, what was normal for a teenager these days? Snake Eyes had grown up fighting rats for food scraps in Japan. He was hardly a good example.

"Jackie's awake."

Snake Eyes blinked at Corbin's mumbled words. She lifted her head and looked away, scowling.

"She's awake and apparently going to make a full recovery, so I thought you'd want to know. I mean, I was the one that…" Corbin trailed off, swallowing. "I was the one that put her in danger, but I thought you might like to know that she's going to be… well not okay, since she's never been okay. I mean… she's been through a fuckton."

Corbin's eyes glittered for a second. Then she sucked in a breath.

"They won't let me get a message to her. Just a simple message. Telling her that I love her, and miss her." She tilted her head back. "How is that fucking fair, Snake Eyes?"

He noticed that whenever she was talking to him about the Joes, it became a 'you' and 'they' situation. But whenever she was yelling at him, the 'they' simply became 'you'. He wondered if she realised that.

Snake Eyes applied the pen to the page.

_Don't you think she'll know you want to talk to her as badly as she wants to talk to you? Don't you think she already knows how you feel_?

Corbin scowled. 'It's not… the same.'

_Of course it is. You're just afraid that she doesn't know, because you haven't told her yourself. Can't you just trust her to know on her own_?

Corbin's expression, eyes downcast, brows drawn, spoke whole worlds, and Snake Eyes just stared at her behind his visor. He tapped her leg to get her attention, and when her gaze directed toward the page, he wrote, clearly and slowly.

_Do you trust anyone _-

"I trust Jackie!" she snarled at him, getting to her feet. "Fuck you, Snake! How fucking da-"

Snake Eyes followed her up, grabbing her arm and pulling her around. He lifted the notebook and turned it around so she could see what he had written.

_Do you trust anyone completely_?

"I trust Jackie," she said sharply, eyes narrowed. "I trust her with everything. Every secret. Every part of myself. She's my best friend, my sister, my confidante. She's _everything_ to me. And now she's _gone_. Can you blame me for wanting to make sure she knows how I feel?" She stepped toward him, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. "And don't you talk to me about _trust_." Her eyes were narrowed. The words were hissed, like a cat. "Not when you can't even show me your fucking face. Not when you can't let me look you in fucking eye."

Snake released Corbin's arm, and instead walked forward. Rather than backing down, though, she lifted her chin and glared up at him. He stopped when their chests almost touched – and would have had they both taken a deep breath at the same time. He didn't know why he had crowded her, but now standing so close, feeling her breath on his masked cheek, he couldn't move away.

"What the hell are you hiding under your mask, Snake Eyes?" She got closer, rising up on her toes, and her next words were felt against the cloth that separated their mouths, the scant millimetres of air between his face and hers seeming to cease to exist. "What is it that you don't want me to see? Take the mask off, and we'll talk about _trust_."

Snake Eyes felt his arms trembling slightly, his exhaustion returning and taking a toll on his physical control as his anger mounted. How was Snake Eyes to tell her that she always found his eyes behind his visor? How was he to tell her that she always seemed to know where to look to meet them with unnerving accuracy? How was he to tell her that his mask had nothing to do with trust, or a lack of it? How was he supposed to get her to understand his vow of silence? His love for the Hard Master? His grief at his death and at the slow disintegration of the Arashikage afterwards?

How did he know she would understand?

"I didn't think so." She turned to the side, moving around him.

Snake Eyes slammed his palm into the wall in front of her, blocking her path. Apparently the move startled her and she looked up at him with wide eyes, but she did not attempt to move away again. Rather, her lashes lowered and she smiled, and it was a smile that tightened something low in Snake Eyes' stomach. A smile that made his breath slam out of his lungs and his heartbeat quicken.

"I like that you don't take shit from me," she said quietly. "And I like it when you get mad." She leaned close again, and this time the flames that filled Snake Eyes' blood had nothing to do with anger.

+_Joes. Grab your gear and get to the hanger bay. Immediately_.+

The two of them went absolutely motionless. Hawk's voice was like a splash of cold water on Snake Eyes and he stepped back sharply, flexing his hands. He glanced at his palm, and then the wall beside Corbin's head, as if he had only just realised what he had done.

"You're going to have to do a lot more than that to scare me, Snake."

He looked up at her. Her face was a mask of determination, but to what end, he didn't know.

"I'll see you when you get back." She turned and walked away, but cast over her shoulder as she did. "And you'd better come back."

The fusuma doors closed behind her and Snake Eyes let out the breath he had no idea he was holding.

Apparently, he'd inadvertently started a game of cat and mouse, and Corbin was determined to play.

For some reason, the idea of going head to head with someone as stubborn, and wilful, and prideful as Corbin… was thrilling.

_Very well. _If she insisted on playing, they'd play, but she'd soon find out why Snake Eyes always won cat and mouse games.

Because he was always the snake.

**~}*{~**

_Thank you for reading this latest chapter! For those of you returning to the fiction, please tell me what you think of the changes to the previous chapters. I've rearranged a few events, shortened most of them and cut back on exposition. These last few months at uni have really taught me a lot in regards to my own writing, but I always believe I can get better!_

_For those of you newly arrived to my fiction, please leave a review, because your input is just as valuable to me! They keep me going!_

_Love you all_

_Anne_

**Notes**

1 – _tokonoma: a built-in recess in the wall of a Japanese home for artistic displays such as wall hangings._

2 – _fusuma: opaque sliding doors used as dividers in large rooms._

3 – _tamaya: a 'spirit house' used as a shrine to the deceased. _

4 – _shoji_: _sliding paper screen doors_.

5 – _kotatsu: low wooden tables in Japanese homes._

**Tl;dnr is at the bottom in bold. For convenience, I have split this into several sections.**

My dearest readers and reviewers,

Never let it said that I don't cherish each and every one of you (yes, even you flamers. Here. Have a cookie). However, there has something that has been brought to my attention that I feel I can't ignore. And, yes, I am **blatantly** exploiting you, right now, but don't worry. This will be put on every single one of my fanfictions, so you're not the only ones.

As some of you may be aware, there have been a mass deletion of fanfictions and account suspensions and even bannings on this site. People are losing their stories and their accounts. Talented writers. Beginner writers. Hobbyists. This is due to their fictions being reported for infractions on this site's rules, all because of an elitist stranglehold and monopoly of membership and participation on this site.

'**Critics United'/ 'Literate Union'**

_Aka, an attempt to validate vicious cyberbullying_

Now, let it never be said that I think that the rules should be violated, or that violations should be allowed. They are there for many reasons, most primarily legal. has been careful to ensure that we are all able to post fanfictions on this site, an act in and of itself that can be considered legally questionable. After all, we are appropriating intellectual property that belongs to those that are not ourselves, aren't we (although let me remark on the hilarity of having potentially plagiarised images on our plagiarised stories). Those who run have done incredible work, voluntarily, and are amazing people for doing so. However, whether or not these fictions violate the rules, or the validation of the removal of their works is not what I am bringing to light here. You are able to formulate your own opinion on the matter, and you are responsible for your own works.

As well as your own _behaviour_.

And it is behaviour that I wish to address here. The horrendous and reprehensible behaviour of members of this site who have joined together in a hateful mission of cyber bullying. Because that is exactly what this is; the most deplorable example of victimisation and antagonism I have **ever seen on this site.** These people specifically target stories that violate this site, and persistently hover over it like vultures, pecking away at the victim until they get what they want; which is ultimately a deletion of all stories that violate the rules of this site.

These are not people who report stories and move on. They have made it their mission to see deleted each and every single fiction that exhibits an infraction of the rules, however major or minor, and in the process humiliate and persecute the authors who – as I have seen many of them state – are apparently deserving of the ridicule that this group inflicts upon them.

And they have a forum dedicated to this end. On this site. There, they collate fictions that they have seen deleted, either directly or indirectly, in a hall of shame. They also bring forth fictions for judgement by their fellows for the sole purpose of deciding whether or not it violates the rules and, if it can be proven that it does violate the rules, they proceed to head to the fiction en-mass to spam the story's review feed and report the fiction if they don't comply to the site's rules.

They collate deleted fictions in a 'hall of shame' topic that allows them to display all the fictions that have been deleted because of their actions. They congratulate each other on a job well done. They laugh at poor writing, drag people through the dirt, and for what? So that they can feel good about their 'hard work'? So that they can feel as though they have some great power holding life or death over these fictions, passing judgement on these authors?

Now, for their credit, they seem to think they are doing the right thing. They ensure to discuss questionable fics, ensure that they are breaking rules, and then go and report. And some of them are courteous and polite about their warnings. On the forum, one person this:

"_1. None of the people on this site are god, but the admins on this site__do__decide what stories get to be on here based on the guidelines__you__agreed to._

_2. The people here don't report stories because they're bad, we report stories because they break guidelines. (This includes horrific spelling, grammar, and chat-speak.) Given, if it is a bad story, we might tear it to pieces with our criticism, but we don't report it."_

This statement is of merit, and would be acceptable, if it were not for the fact that, four posts down, the _same_ _person_ posted this:

"_Reviewed and reported. Really, do all stupid fangirls really think they're going to get away with absolute crap like this? Just as well, why must all of them put it in eye-blinding bold and italics?"_

The hypocrisy of them trying to claim some noble cause while passing these personal judgements sickens me. After all, I don't know about you, but I am a fangirl of many things, and saying such disparagingly judgemental terms makes me feel like this person puts themselves at a level far above my own. I don't want to seem arrogant or egotistical when I say this, but I would dearly love to see this person use the term 'fangirl' as an insult to my face.

One group of people call themselves 'Critics United', but I can safely say that their self-titling is pathetic. These people are not critics. They are bullies hiding under a guise of justification because they are only targeting those that break the rules of this site. A cause like that does not explain or validate their actions in any way. It is not less bullying, it is not less a ridiculous display of egotism, and it is no less an act of _victimisation_. This is not critiquing, this isn't even constructive criticism, as they like to claim it. I am a critic. I am a _literature student_. And I would never, _ever_ equate these people with holding the role of critique, unless they are referring to the meaning of being negative naysayers.

Moreover, you do not justify your actions as constructive criticism when you force it down someone's throat. Not everyone can handle constructive criticism, and you don't get to stamp your words and self-stylise in order to validate such criticism when someone doesn't want it. **That is still bullying.**

The fact that these people try to veil their victimisation behind courteous and polite words doesn't make it any less bullying. Doesn't make it any less than a vindictive desire to hold some elitist hold over writing over this site, and proclaim themselves judge, jury and executioner of people's fictions. They have been screenshotted in reviews saying things like 'piece of **' 'toxic crap' and directly insulting people's writing skill. I don't know about you, but this kind of juvenile behaviour cannot be considered 'critiquing'. _That_ behaviour is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. How dare they hold some holier-than-thou attitude over other writers and maintain some sort of integrity because they are 'enforcing the rules'.

As I have said, _I do not condone rule breaking in any way, shape or form_ on this site, and I have been careful to ensure that my own fics do not break the rules. But that does not mean that I feel I have a right to hunt down all the fics that do break the rules. It is the responsibility of each and every member to ensure their works don't break the rules, and to report those that flaunt the rules.

_And then move on_.

Making a group for the sole purpose of some self-imposed duty of policing disgusts me. The idea that someone has read my fictions, nodded their head and said 'You pass', decreeing that I would be allowed to post not merely because I have followed the rules, but because _they gave me permission to_ disgusts me. These people have taken a power that belongs to everyone, and decided to turn it toward their own means, believing that they are safe and okay because they are merely upholding the rules of the site. When, in actuality, that is not at all merely what they are doing.

And what is worse, _is condoning their behaviour_. I do not believe that the administrators of this site are reading the stories they have deleted, validating that they violate the rules, and then deleted them based on their own judgement. Instead, they are going after people based on the report count listed by their name, a count that this group, Critics United, is largely responsible for.

For those members of this group who feel that they have some form of duty to patrol this site for this purpose, but are careful and courteous in their reviews and warnings, I'm sorry. But you willingly associate with this ego-trip and I am afraid you are not completely free of blame.

For those of you that use this as an excuse to flaunt your superiority over others, and then claim no responsibility for your actions because you are 'upholding the rules'… There is no excuse, justification, or validation for your behaviour. None.

Nor is there an excuse, justification, or validation for 's condoning of it.

A worse group, however, is the Literate Union, which is almost identical to Critics United except for the fact that they are fully aware of the fact that all they do is flame, degrade and viciously bully those who they believe is worthy. They are everything I have stated above, without an attempt to justify their cruel behaviour. These people are slightly more self-aware, but even less mature in their actions. They have a forum dedicated to asking one another to specifically go and _flame_ people and their stories, and I am at a loss as to the reason why.

Critics United have embarked on a witch hunt because they want to destroy the witches and purge their town.

Literate Union just wants to watch people squeal and burn in the flames.

This is cyber bullying, without any explanation or excuse. 'Upholding the rules' is not something I will accept. It does not require this level of hunt-and-kill execution that these people are exhibiting. It isn't their right to take it upon themselves to tear apart each author, post it on their hateful forum and giggle behind their hands with one another.

I do not want to be associated with a site that condones this blatant display of bullying.

**The rating system/the bannings and deletions**

_AKA I think you missed one_

As many readers may be aware, this time of year slows down for me because of my university. I have also been unable to post new chapters on my fanfiction because I am writing a thesis, and it is draining most of my energy. I have to work toward a Ph.D scholarship, which can range anywhere from thirty-five to sixty-five thousand taxpayer dollars, which makes me want to make sure I am deserving of it. However, I was in the process of re-writing several of my fics, and prepared to post them en-mass when I next had time.

However, I would like to draw attention to this section of the front page;

June 4th 2012 - Notices:

Please note we would like to clarify the content policy we have in place since 2002. follows the Fiction Rating system ranging from Fiction K to Fiction M. Although Fiction Ratings goes up to Fiction MA, since 2002 has not allowed Fiction MA rated content which can contain adult/explicit content on the site. only accepts content in the Fiction K through Fiction M range. Fiction M can contain adult language, themes and suggestions. Detailed descriptions of physical interaction of sexual or violent nature is considered Fiction MA and has not been allowed on the site since 2002.

I would state here, briefly, that the idea of not having a mature rating for mature readers has always perplexed me. I feel making them unavailable to unregistered readers, and having a function in a profile that allows for a 'I am over the age of 18' box to be checked would cover the ethical issues in regards to this. Ethical considerations on the internet require only a disclosure of age and consent of content that is about to be read. Once a person checks a 'I am over the age of 18' box, the people who are exposing them to the information are no longer liable for any legal action. They have fulfilled their requirement of responsibility. As such, not having a mature section for this site has never really made sense for me. However, that is not what I wish to address here.

As such, I regret to inform my readers that, though the content of my stories are not exclusively of this nature, many of my fictions feature such violence in their content, from detailed description of sexual interaction (_Gestalt_, and the intent in _Paradise Lost_), and violence (pretty much every single one of my fictions). What you would consider 'detailed' and rule violating, however, is subject to opinion, but from what I have addressed, opinion is enough to get your story deleted, or your account suspended or banned. I had thought that if the story had the content, but did not feature it as the main issue – for example a romance that went into sex, but did not have sex in every chapter – would be allowed as a mature example of professional writing.

I was, apparently, wrong.

I am fortunate that all of my stories exist on my laptop and not exclusively on , but it would devastate me to lose the wonderful reviews I have gotten from you, the painstaking time that you have all put in to telling me your thoughts and feelings on my work, helping me improve, giving me invaluable feedback and encouragement. I have been dragged from the depths of writer's block and depression because of the things you have said, and I cannot even imagine how some people feel with their stories deleted, not only losing their work, but the amazing reviews that people have left for them, to show them that their work is appreciated.

And let me say that the idea that is deleting fanfictions that depict graphic sex or violence, but are allowing people like Critics United and

I also do not feel like waiting for the Critics United group to turn their attention to the Mass Effect category and rifle through it, finding my fictions and passing their judgements on my work. It isn't their right.

**The result**

**As such – and I know many of you are going to hate me for this, and I'm sorry –henceforth, in protest of the actions being taken on this site;**

**I will no longer be updating any of my fanfictions.**

**I will not be posting the rewrites of **_**Paradise Lost**_**, **_**In the Shadow of Gods**_** and **_**A Cage of Butterflies**_** that I have been working on.**

**I will not be posting new stories or one-shots on this site, nor any planned sequels.**

**Whether or not I repost my fictions elsewhere, and whether or not I post new fictions elsewhere has yet to be decided.**

**This is me being responsible for my own actions, my own opinions, and my own image, in that I **_**will not be associated in any way with these people, nor will I allow their actions to go unaddressed**_**.**

**This is not a message to . This is a message to you, my readers, my reviewers. Critics United are a group of vicious cyberbullies who defend their actions with the guise of 'upholding the rules'. Literate Union are simply cyberbullies who do not even try to defend their actions, and their actions are blatantly antagonistic and cruel. This does not make it any less bullying. It does not make their actions any less cruel. While I advocate that the rules be upheld, and I know that some fictions are in blatant violation of them, this group should not be allowed to continue conducting themselves as they have. These people purposefully seek out and victimising members of this site, and this is not behaviour I want to endorse, condone, forgive, be associated with, or turn a blind eye to.**

**I am not sure if I will post my works elsewhere for people to read. If I do, I will let you know.**

**I have created a tumblr for mass communication in case my account on is deleted. annewhynnfanfiction(youknoetherest) Please add me. I will keep everyone updated.**

This needs to stop.

I love you all sincerely and dearly. You are my valued readers and reviewers, and you make me so happy whenever I hear anything from any of you. But this is unacceptable.

I am sorry.

For the forseable future, this is me signing out.

Love

Anne

P.S – Feel free to send me reviews filled with rage and hate, condemnations for my actions and… well. Anger. I have marshmellows ready.


End file.
